


Enemies to Lovers

by methuselahsattemptatlife



Category: Hikaru no Go
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-14 10:39:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 30
Words: 48,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8010421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/methuselahsattemptatlife/pseuds/methuselahsattemptatlife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After years of going toe-to-toe in the world of GO, Shindou and Touya find themselves looking at their relationship from a new perspective when they're forced into a strange situation. Then Akira's father becomes unexpectedly ill and Sai leaves Hikaru's mind, moving on to the other side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shindou

Akira Touya was thirteen. He was stiff and formal, young and intense, patient and kindhearted. With hair as black as the night sea cut severely about his shoulders he was blessed with a pair of emerald green eyes that were often placid enough to be considered tame. Yet those eyes would, with the right level of challenge, slice the very air with their intensity and cower all those before him.

His nervous fingers tightened a deep blue tie around his pale throat. In the mirror swam his handsome features, shaky with anticipation. A GO prodigy, Akira had won countless competitions in his short time on Earth. He’d even become a pro at the tender age of twelve. Even with all his talents it was to the credit of his father that Akira had such strict skills, having been raised in the ways of the game. Now, Akira remained invincible in the eyes of his peers, and a formidable foe to all others. Only his father and chance few others had the skills to best him. Among those few happened to be a boy of his same age, Hikaru Shindo.

Shindou was every detail the opposite of Akira himself. His western affectations, blond-black hair, and boorish mouth had earned him quite a unique reputation in the GO world. Although his intentions were positive Shindou was a klutz. There was nothing quiet or respectful about him. He was a grinning idiot in Akira’s opinion with his hazel-jade eyes open wide with ignorance. His loose garish clothing made him seem even more childish than his mannerisms. But he was eager to play GO with new people and eager to learn new things about the game at every turn. This, above all else, proved to be his best quality.

At the start of his career Shindo had chanced upon a GO salon where Akira often spent his afternoons. Akira had thought him amusing and agreed to play a teaching game with him after a short introduction. At first things had seemed fine. Hikaru was clumsy, Akira was merciless and confident, and the game itself was tame. Then suddenly Akira began to realize that something was very wrong. Even with his clumsy moves, it was clear that Shindou was immeasurably strong, even in comparison to Akira himself. It shocked the young pro beyond possibility when he was left the shamed and humiliated loser in the wake of this clumsy beginner.

“I’ve only played once before,” Shindou had said to the cashier on his way out, unperturbed by the game. “But I like it, I guess.”

In the dark back room Akira stared down at the crowded GO board in disbelief. He couldn’t pull his eyes away. Even his father didn’t have strength like this. Shindou’s skill was beyond anything that he’d ever seen, but he’d only played once before. Holding that kind of power, that strength, was a child just like him.

Only Akira had been playing for his entire life.

And so a game of cat and mouse began. They would meet a few times every now and then as the years went by, totally by chance, to battle again. But by then Shindou’s power had seemingly evaporated. He was once again the clumsy beginner with a natural talent for the game. Akira refused to believe that his hidden power was totally gone and several times his affirmations were confirmed; first by an online player, and another time by the accounts of his peers. He became obsessed with matching that hidden foe again. He met him once online, much to his wild anxiety, and had run to the nearest chat café to find Shindo sitting guiltily in front of a computer very capable of accessing online GO. It was him. He’d made the same moves as their very first game, and so he knew then that Shindou was hiding something. Shindou had denied any online games but by then it was too late. Akira knew.

Akira himself struggled to continue his upward momentum in the GO world in the shadow of Shindou, the rising star, but managed to keep face despite their budding rivalry. No matter where Akira went there were whispers of admiration and respect. The rumors of him being bested by a beginner were fading.

Shindou seemed to be improving at a natural pace now despite his immense born talents. There were rare whispers now about the famed power ‘Sai’ who had shown himself in online GO sites the previous summer, so few that he seemed to fade into legend. But Akira would remember Sai, because he knew who it was. Sai was Shindou, and he knew this with more conviction than he knew himself.

Years passed. Shindou and Akira were finally on the same level, desperately battling one another for domination of the GO world. All other pros fell far behind them. Soon the world was watching the ferocious war between the two. Even Akira’s father had fallen by the way side. And now, at the twin ages of sixteen, Shindou and Akira were neck and neck in becoming the world’s top GO player.


	2. Leaving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira realizes that Satori knows more than he lets on.

Akira fidgeted with his tie as the car drove him to the other side of town. Tonight was a celebration of the New Year but he wasn’t going to relax like the other party guests. Rather he was attending on a favor to a close friend whom he’d taking a liking to lately. After a bit of conversation and the chime of the New Year Akira planned to make a swift but polite escape. He’d been pretty tired lately, losing a lot of sleep over nothing, and even this celebratory evening was going to be hard on him.

He sighed as he glanced out at the passing city. These days he was finding it difficult to unwind. The constant battles against Hikaru kept him sharp but at what cost? Clearly, his health was suffering. But he wasn’t so willing to quit. The window was cold against his forehead as he pierced the night with his gaze. Each light that passed left a streak of color in his pupil, temporarily blinding him, but still he stared determinedly at black river as they passed over the bridge. He would recover. And so would his eagerness to defeat Hikaru.

The house of his friend Satori was larger than he remembered. Akira leaned forward to see it more clearly as the car approached the front door. Looming over the parked cars and blinking with party lights, the house seemed more like the mansion of a celebrity, brimming with life and glittering tauntingly. He stepped into the cold air with his jacket over his arm. The car pulled away, humming over the asphalt. Maybe it wouldn’t be so easy to skip out on this party.

Akira felt daunted by the stream of guests headed through the big front door. He withdrew into himself as the torrent of people absorbed him on his way inside. His eyes were drawn to the tinsel cast on the ceiling threaded with streamers and glitter. Balloons filled every corner of the ceiling. Drinks were strewn everywhere, and men in uniform walked around offering snacks to the guests.

Loud music played from the back room, which Akira knew by experience to be the living area, and his nerves were dispelled when he saw the lack of attention being paid to him. A smile broke the cold melancholy of his face. What was he worried about? There was plenty of space for him to be alone in a big party. After all, if it were a small gathering, his friend might mourn his absence.

Akira passed from room to room searching for a familiar face. He took notice of the topics of conversation which revolved around music, art, and modern competitions, such as the Olympics and GO pros. So, this was a gathering of his peers. His eye was caught by a group of girls dressed very elegantly and as he watched them converse, languidly walking from one group of boys to the next, clicking their high heels as they went, Akira felt a tug in his heart. He was growing up now. Soon, his father would expect him to show interest in girls so that he could one day be married. Just watching the graceful pucker of their glossy lips, the sway of their hips, and the shimmer of their dresses put him in a state of anxiety. That future for him was growing ever near. A future he wasn’t prepared for in the least.

He suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned with a start to see Satori standing alongside him. An inch or so shorter than Akira, Satori was a handsome boy of eighteen, with silvery hair in a wave around his head and frameless glasses that accented his deep blue eyes. He was dressed in very modern western clothing that accentuated his slender build. The designed shirt and jeans looked expensive. Satori always had good taste. But even with the appearance of a model, his foreboding presence dominated the room, not his looks.

“Beautiful girls on the mind?” Satori asked flatly.

Akira smiled in a sheepish fashion. “Everyone here is dressed very beautifully. How’ve you been, Satori? It’s good to see you.”

“And you as well, Akira. Keeping busy, I see. How’s the pro game?”

“Always interesting.”

Satori led the way into the kitchen, which was vast and cluttered with drinks. He chose a glass of champagne to offer to Akira, which he took politely. Then Satori glanced over at his guests with an unsaid thought in his mind. Akira gazed into the bubbling glass with unease. He didn’t really like drinking alcohol.

“I’m glad you could come,” Satori said, his tone growing in sincerity, and Akira tore his eyes from the glass to examine his friend’s expression.

A flicker in his eyes gave him away. Akira lowered the glass. “You’re leaving.” For a moment Satori let his reply dangle silently between them. He chose a glass from a long line of lime drinks and drained it in one go, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. The glass made a fragile noise as it touched the counter again.

“I have a future in Europe,” he said at last, casting Akira a heavy look. His lips spoke the truth and his eyes were deep with feeling. That’s what drew so many people to Satori. He was always in touch with his deepest emotions and he allowed others a brief glimpse into them. It was enough to show them that he meant what he said, but because it was such a brief look before the curtain fell once more to hide his heart, it left one breathless and dizzy, craving more all the time.

Akira was one of those people. Even now, despite himself, he felt ravenous for the truth of Satori’s soul. It had been this way ever since they’d met a few months ago. “When will you be back, Satori?” Akira pressed, searching his friend’s face for the truth. What he saw there struck him. “That long?” He whispered.

Satori took up another glass. “I’m glad you were able to be here with me, tonight,” he repeated. Their eyes locked and Akira held his breath but the curtain had fallen back into place. His true heart was again shrouded by the strong apathy that dominated his personality. A flicker of something in his eyes was all Akira could glean. Was that guilt he saw? “Please, try to enjoy the party while I welcome the rest of my guests.”

Standing aside, Akira still felt Satori’s wind ruffle his hair as he passed beyond him into the foyer. He cursed silently. He should’ve been by more often to see him. Now he was leaving, maybe forever. Unfortunately, it was hard for Akira to be around Satori, but he should’ve let his guard down. He should’ve gotten closer to him; or rather, allowed Satori to be closer to himself. Akira had gotten into the bad habit of shutting people out. No one understood him, not really, and he’d never let anyone try. It was just how he coped with his high-pressure life.

With a final glance at the empty doorway Akira turned towards the loud music and let it reel him in. The carpet was plush beneath his handmade leather shoes. As he entered the living room the beat of the song resounding in the floor only added anxiety to his gloomy mood. It was more crowded in here than anywhere else, with people in groups laughing or dancing together energetically. All the sliding glass doors were open to allow the heat of the party to escape into the night. There was food lined up against a wall that ran the length of the room, and a huge television was playing the music video of the band that played this song. It seemed to be hooked to a stereo system that encircled the room.

The song was a popular one but Akira didn’t enjoy it personally. Mostly he liked traditional music, calming songs, or in his rare moods Korean pop. He scanned the sea of faces but only a few were familiar to him. I’ve spent too much time in the presence of old men, he thought cynically to himself. I can’t remember the last time I was invited to a party that wasn’t centered on politics or GO. This is a whole new world.

He stood casually by the door and sipped experimentally on the champagne which fizzled over his taste buds and made him cringe. Nope, he still hated alcohol. A sigh escaped him. The people before him grinned and spoke so easily to one another. He overheard an argument about pop stars, some commentary about politics, but nothing he wanted to get involved in. What a weary soul he’d become.

Akira took another sip of the champagne. It was worse the second time. Then, a flash of yellow caught his eye. He fumbled with his glass and almost dropped it as he saw Hikaru Shindou standing across the room. Shindou! Akira’s heart thundered against his ribcage. What was he doing here?! This wasn’t a place for him! He angrily put down his glass and crossed the floor, weaving in and out of dancers and getting dirty looks from the women. When he was halfway across the room someone grabbed his wrist.

Feeling himself yanked onto the dance floor, Akira whirled angrily to see a girl fastened on to him with an equal amount of distaste. She was tan and tall with a narrow breast wrapped in a silver evening gown, and long dark hair cascading down her back. “You just stepped on my friend!” She snapped.

Akira checked his anger. Politely he bowed. “My apologies, ladies.” When he stood up again he left them both with pleasantly shocked looks on their faces. Whispers of his name nipped at his heels. So they did know him. But Shindou was gone by the time Akira reached the spot where he’d been standing.

Cursing, he stepped into the night air, hands in his pockets. Why was Shindou here? A thought struck Akira. Wait, had Satori invited him? Is that why he looked guilty before? He turned and gazed into the crowded living room. From the sea of faces he could discern only one looking at him. It was Satori’s forlorn apathy that searched him out, standing beside a head of blond and black hair.


	3. Moving On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira lets Satori's wisdom lead the way.

Shindou! Talking to Satori? Akira let his anger smolder deep in his chest. Damn him! On their last night together, Satori had done the unthinkable and brought his rival here! To what? Make amends between them? He stood letting the night air whisk away the heat from his flushed face as Satori exchanged a parting look with Shindou. Even as his willowy form crossed the floor towards him Akira was forming an angry scolding in his mind.

Once he stepped outside, Satori drew his shoulders together as protection against the chill. He grew very pale. Akira, looking into his eyes, noticed then that he wasn’t in full health, and his words died in his throat. “It’s time,” Satori said quietly so the others didn’t hear.

“For what?” Akira managed.

Satori stood by his side and gazed back into the party. Akira followed his eyes until they were both looking at Shindou, who was bobbing awkwardly about the groups of their peers. A sigh slid from his pale lips. “I’m sorry.”

Looking at him quickly, Akira’s eyes sharpened. “For what?” He repeated with feeling. “You’ve done nothing wrong, Satori.”

“But I have.” Satori didn’t meet his eyes. “I wanted to do more for you, Akira. To be there for you.”

Akira was struck by his tone. He’d been thinking the same thing, then? Both of them had been too afraid to open up to the other. “Satori…” He trailed off, unsure of what to say. “We’ll still be close, surely?”

“No. It wasn’t meant.” So there it was. He’d said what Akira had been too afraid to think. With them living in separate countries, on separate sides of the earth, their bond would surely degrade and may even be broken.

Akira felt his heart throb painfully. Tears stung his eyes. “Don’t blame yourself.” He looked at him resolutely. “I was too afraid to open up. I’m just…”

“Not ready to be vulnerable,” Satori finished. He nodded wisely. “Neither of us were.”

They stood in silence for a while. The night air chirped around them, the garden stretching into darkness but brimming with life, and Akira felt the sorrow in his soul hardening into regret. He felt like he was losing a lover. They’d never been intimate in that way but something in Satori’s eyes always made him wonder if they could have been.

“With time, maybe things could have been different. But there’s no forcing what isn’t meant to be.” A cold hand touched Akira’s and Satori embraced the chill. “Time was too short, but we need more than time. You and I need a kindred spirit to be comfortable with before we can truly be vulnerable.”

He was right, of course. Akira and Satori were too different too be kindred spirits. Maybe it was always meant to be this way, just like he’d said. It bothered Akira now that he’d thought about them being lovers. “Is that why Shindou is here?” He asked.

“Yes.”

Akira considered his friend. “Promise me you’ll stay well, and keep in touch. When I can visit I want to come see you in Europe.”

Satori met his eyes then. A second glimpse into his heart sent Akira reeling; there was so much pain behind those eyes. “I hope you can.”

He’d promised nothing. Maybe he knew something more that Akira did not. It seemed his way. “All right,” Akira replied somberly. “I’ll speak with Shindou.”

Akira watched Satori’s face yielded a glimmer of a smile that lit up his entire façade. Glancing away, abashed, Satori bobbed his head a few times without saying anything more. Clearly that was all he’d wanted to hear. Akira smiled to himself. Only Satori could have convinced him so easily. Only his easy honesty and intense feeling could easily break through the most stubborn walls within Akira’s heart. Again Akira felt a throb of regret. He was going to miss him.

Satori vanished back inside without another glance back. Akira watched him go, finally satisfied and fully aware of what needed to happen next. He strode confidently into the party, went into the kitchen, and promptly drank two classes of champagne. After a coughing fit he wormed his way out into the foyer and began his search for Shindou. He was groggy now because it was late in the night and he was tipsy but his steely determination and drink-induced bravado drove him onwards.

Outside the world seemed to become black as pitch but inside the lights and voices of the party guests banished the darkness. Twice Akira saw the glimpse of blond hair in the crowd. Both times it turned out to be a different girl, and Akira was beginning to wonder if he was just seeing things when he finally spotted Shindou going upstairs to the bedrooms. He grabbed another glass and marched up the stairs after him. The landing was thick with lounging bodies, leaning together and laughing. Akira had to perform a feat of flexibility with the small empty spaces on the stairs around them to reach the hallway. When he did, he came face to face with Shindou.

“Touya?!” Shindou colored. “You’re here?” His young round face had sharpened in the four years Akira had known him. Now he was well on his way to being a young man. They had remained nearly the same height, with Akira besting him by an inch, but Hikaru was all elbows and knees while Akira had grown straight-backed and wide in the shoulders. Shindou’s hazel eyes, swimming with green shock, were suddenly filled with wonder. “Do you know Satori, too?”

“I… Yes,” Touya muttered. Now that he had found Shindou, he didn’t know what to say.

Shindou relaxed visibly. “Wow! Me, too. We were childhood friends. He told me he was moving away, so I came to see him off. But he said that we can’t say goodbye until after it’s the New Year, so… I’m just waiting, I suppose.” He tilted his head. “How do you know him?”

Akira stared at him blankly. Childhood friends? Satori grew up with Shindou and didn’t tell him? He was struck with the sudden realization that maybe Satori had been planning this interaction since they’d met months ago. No, he reasoned. That wasn’t possible. No one planned that far ahead. Then again, Satori played a mean game of GO… He shook his head to clear it.

“We…” Akira cleared his throat and managed to look at Shindou in the eye. “We met at a gallery, back in May. He debuted some of his paintings there. My father took me to meet him because we were peers.”

“Yeah, he’s always been an amazing artist,” Shindou grinned. He rubbed his head. “So… weird, huh? How we’re both friends?”

The hot air of the upper landing began to make Akira feel very stuffy. “Yes.” He said quietly, tugging at his tie to loosen it. “I suppose it’s strange.”

“He’s hard to get close to, isn’t he?”

Akira looked at him sharply. “What?”

Shindou flinched back. “Um… Satori. He’s always been mysterious. I don’t think anyone really knows him that well.” He shrugged awkwardly. “We were never close. But still, he was always kind to me.”

“Really?” Akira’s mind spun. So no one else was close with Satori either. He took a deep breath. “Shindou,” he began, locking eyes with him. “We need to talk.”

This cowed Hikaru severely. Maybe it was the dark expression on Touya’s face. “S-Sure, Touya, um… about what?”

“Come with me.” Pushing passed him, Akira led the way into one of the bedrooms he knew to be Satori’s. Thankfully no one else dared to touch it. But Akira had been in here many times for a tour of his CD collection and besides, it had been Satori to initiate their conversation. He wouldn’t mind. Hikaru closed the door behind him. He gazed with awe at the walls which were made into a collage of posters and paper, and the mounds of discarded clothing on the bed.

“Satori seemed so neat, too! What a mess!”

“You’ve never been in here?” Akira pushed open the window to allow the cool night air to surround them. It felt amazing on his flushed face. He paused at the sill. Was he blushing? Waving aside the thought, he proceeded to the long line of CD’s on the bookshelf and chose one he was very familiar with. To Hikaru’s great shock he popped it into the CD player and pressed play. The soothing sound of classical music filled their ears. Hikaru was fascinated and distracted, while Akira found himself much more at ease.

“Now,” Touya said. “Let’s talk.”


	4. Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira gets a little more than a taste of what happens when you drink.

Shindou was looking at him oddly so Akira glanced at the champagne glass he’d forgotten that he was holding. Then he looked back at Shindou. “Here,” he said, offering the glass to him. It was slightly spilled and sticky but he was surprised to see Shindou accept it eagerly.

“Thanks, I’m really thirsty.” Shindou swallowed most of it in one mouthful but choked. “A-Alcohol?!” He stammered.

His face looked so funny contorted in horror that Akira felt laughter bubbling up inside him. Fighting against it, he focused on the music and took a seat in Satori’s computer chair, which was the only clean surface available. Shindou quickly put aside the champagne glass. He made a spot for himself on the bed, politely resting his hands on his knees as he continued to glance around.

“What… do you want to talk about?” Torn between Satori’s interesting bedroom and Akira’s flushed face, Shindou was careful to pay more attention to the room just in case staring at Akira made things worse between them. Akira was unaware of his discomfort, and unabashedly stared him down.

“We should be friends,” Akira said flatly.

“What?!” Shindou blurted. “I mean… why?” He covered his mouth in horror. The last thing he wanted to do was insult Touya, who seemed pretty mad - and sort of drunk - already.

Sighing, Akira looked away. He relaxed his posture and tried to breathe deeply. Relax, he willed himself. Gingerly he looked up. “I’m sorry.”

Hikaru rocked back, eyes wide. “What? Really?”

“Yes.” Akira shifted to get more comfortable in the chair. The cool night air helped clear his head so he focused on how it felt in his lungs. “I’m… too harsh with you.”

Shindou just stared at him. “You’re drunk, Akira.”

“What? No, I’m not!”

“You’re as red as a beet!”

“So?” Akira genuinely blushed this time. He _was_ drunk! “Listen to me,” he demanded. “I’m trying to tell you I’m sorry for the way that I am!”

  Both of them stiffened. Akira looked at the floor. Hikaru leaned forward, watching him intently. “Touya,” he said gently.

“No. I am sorry for it,” Akira repeated confidently. “Because I was so determined to beat you, I neglected to see how similar we are. How…” He trailed off. “How much we have in common.”

Silence. “Do you really mean that, Akira?”

Finally, Akira met Shindou’s eyes again, and found him to be shining with awe. “I do.” He declared. “It’s my fault that things are so heated between us.”

“Not entirely. I mean, I’m pretty competitive too. You just… take competitiveness passed the game,” Shindou mumbled. “It _is_ kind of harsh.”

“I’m sorry,” Akira said piteously, his heart sinking. He was hopeless. What a brute he was. Where did he get off, judging Shindou? He was just a kid. Just like he was just a kid.

Lunging forward, Hikaru grabbed his hands and looked worriedly into his face. “Stop apologizing!” He cried. “There’s nothing wrong with you – there’s no need to be sorry! Mistakes happen!”

“Yeah?” Akira looked at him, dazed. Could they really be having this conversation? Was he about to lose this rivalry?

“Yeah,” Shindou grinned.

No, Akira thought with surprise. Not lose a rivalry. Gain a friendship. Relief flooded his heart. “Oh,” he managed.

Smiling, Shindou patted his hands. “Thank you, Akira.”

“For what?”

“For this. You didn’t have to apologize to me. Ever since I met you, you’ve never apologized for anything.” Hikaru thought for a moment, composing his thoughts. “We really _should_ be friends. I mean, just because we compete doesn’t mean we can’t get along.”

Akira was at a loss for words. He just watched Hikaru’s face compose into different emotions until he realized that he was being watched.

“Are you ok?” Shindou asked suddenly. “You’re really drunk, aren’t you?”

“I think so,” Akira admitted, swaying to the flute solo on the CD that filled the room. He almost fell but caught himself. “I’ve never been drunk before. I don’t like it. I don’t like alcohol.”

“Why did you drink it, then?”

“I was nervous,” Akira mumbled. “I was going to have another, but it wasn’t really helping, so I gave it to you.”

“I’m glad you did. How much did you have?”

“Three? Maybe four?”

A cool hand touched Akira’s forehead. “Wow, you’re on fire! I’ll open the window more.”

Then his hands were released and Shindou was gone. Drowsy, lagging a little, Akira tried to look around the room for him. By the time he found Shindou again he was back at his side, touching his shoulder. The room was flooded with cold air. It made Akira feel very tired.

“Akira, maybe you should lay down?” Hikaru offered.

Nodding, Akira held out his hands for help. “I think so.” He felt the room move around him until suddenly he was in a heap on Satori’s bed. Curling up, he molded his body to the lumpy covers and piles of clothes, pushing his nose into them. The familiar scent he sought out finally touched his nose and he relaxed. Satori always smelled like a musky cologne that clung to him and everything he wore. Akira felt better with it close to him.

Then strong hands turned him over, loosening his tie until it slid from around his neck. Someone even unbuttoned his shirt at the top to free his throat. He pushed the hands away clumsily.

“Akira, I’ll go tell Satori,” Hikaru said, looming over him. “I’ll be right back, ok?”

Akira could make out the worry on his face. He knitted his brow. “Wait.” He desperately reached out his hand and felt Hikaru clasp it in his own. “Wait, I don’t want to be alone… wait…” Closing his eyes, Akira struggled to compose himself. Everything was falling away from him, so far away…

His hand slipped from Hikaru’s, and he succumbed to sleep.

Time slipped away. Something tingled in the back of Akira’s head. He tried to focus on what it was. Voices. He heard voices.

“…Is he ok, do you think?”

It was Hikaru’s voice.

“He’s had too much for his first time.”

Satori. Satori was here, too.

“But will he be ok?”

“Yes. In the morning.”

“Satori,” Akira cried out.

Immediately a cold hand stroked his cheek and another twined their fingers together. His hand was so hot, and Satori’s so very cold. “Akira, rest now. Everything is just fine. We’re here.”

“Don’t go, Satori,” Akira whispered. A short hush fell in his wake.

Satori took a pained breath. “Akira, I…”

“Please!” Akira cried. He couldn’t open his eyes because they were too heavy but he held onto Satori’s hand crushingly tight and sucked in his breath. He heard a shuffle of feet. Satori whispered something to Hikaru. The music in the background was playing so softly, so softly… Akira felt like he was falling, but it was only the bed dipping down a little, accommodating another body.

The fresh, real smell of Satori washed over him. A warm body, thin and long but still heavy, sank down on top of him. Akira felt a rush of sexual feelings spreading throughout his body that both shocked and enamored him. He pressed eagerly against Satori like a boy in heat; though it took the last of his strength, he wanted more. Then he went slack under the pressure of the body on top of him and released an involuntary moan of pure, innocent comfort that was soft, desperately soft, as it rolled out of his compressed lungs. He managed to pull Satori’s cold fingers against his cheek for comfort.

Akira didn’t struggle for breath under the body and he didn’t feel trapped, which was not something he’d expected. It wasn’t a bad weight. No, instead he felt protected. Safe. Aroused, even. He blushed again. Him, aroused? His thoughts swirled.

The music played on. Cool lips pressed to his temple, then the body pressed against him warmly. “Sleep,” Satori whispered in his ear, trailing his lips along his throat. Every touch sent shivers of lust through Akira that dragged him deeper into the abyss.

Sleep, Akira thought obediently, feeling his face flush again and his heart flutter. I’m tired, I… I should…

The last thing he felt was Satori’s body weight leave him, and his cold fingers slip from his grasp.


	5. Ride Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira has reason to be wary of his new friend.

Akira woke very languidly. He had to draw himself out of sleep, fighting against his thoughts like wet blankets that were trying to drag him under again. The room was a mass of foreign shapes and angles. Even as he blinked to clear his eyes, nothing familiar appeared. He groaned as the weight of the previous night awakened in him memories of the things he’d done. Lying on Satori’s bed, totally wasted; what was wrong with him? He shifted to allow the blood to flow more freely in his body and lay on his side. Lifting himself up on his elbow, he peered around.

            Satori’s room was cast in deep contrast. His black-out curtains were parted just slightly, allowing sharp lines of light to bend along his walls. The rest was as he’d left it last night. The CD player had run out of songs and was idling, blinking green in the dim morning sun, and the mounds of clothes around him had made his back form into awkward shapes while he slept. He was sore but oddly refreshed. It had been a while since he’d slept through the night like that.

            Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Akira yawned quietly. He’d have to apologize for his crude behavior. Apparently, alcohol could bring out a side of himself that he’d been neglecting for years. His desires. He ran his hand down his face and peered out the window. How was he going to explain this to his parents? A long night of celebrating tuckered him out, maybe. He’d been offered a guest bed and decided to stay. That was a plausible truth. Only the guest bed part was a lie.

            He stiffened as he heard a shuffling noise alongside the bed. Someone else was in here, too? Carefully he slithered to the end of the queen size bed and peeked over the edge. On a make-shift bed on the floor was a head of black and blond hair buried in blankets.

“Shindou!” Akira hissed.

“Touya? You’re up?” Hikaru turned over, rubbing his eyes and yawning. He peered up at him curiously. “How do you feel?”

Akira briefly recalled hearing his voice at the time of his embarrassing interaction with Satori. He colored at the thought of Shindou seeing him like that. “I’m fine. Why did you stay here? Surely Satori has guest rooms?”

Hikaru sat up, stretching, and his shirt lifted enough for Akira to glimpse his flat middle. “Well,” he grunted. “It’s complicated.”

“Let’s go.” Akira swung his legs out of the bed and found his vertigo spinning. He allowed Hikaru to help him to his feet.

“What? Now?”

“Yes. I’ll have a car pick us up. I can drop you off at home.”

They went downstairs together, passing open bedroom doors. All of the guest beds were empty. The stairs were littered with cups and plates, as was the floor, but the eerie silence of the rest of the house gave Akira the creeps. The party last night had left such a loud impression on him that it was strange to see everything standing so still.

“Morning,” Satori called from the dining room, which was adjacent to the foyer. He sat alone at a dirty table with a steaming cup of tea in his hand. Untouched by the chaos and unrumpled by the party, he rose to greet them. “I see you slept well.”

“Satori.” Akira leaned against the doorway, managing to bow. “I apologize for my behavior last night.”

“It’s quite all right. As you can see from the mess, I rarely sleep in my room. It was no trouble to lend you my bed.” The way Satori said this implied a sexual connotation, and Hikaru’s face grew very stern.

            “We’d like to go,” Hikaru said curtly.

            Satori eyed him. “I’ve already called for a car to take you home. Thank you both for coming.”

            As Hikaru helped him out the door, Akira’s glance lingered on Satori. He’d cast his sullen eyes out the window once more as if they’d never even been there. To Akira, it seemed like he was the sole cause of the houses disorder, and now he had the solitude to enjoy it. He was almost wallowing in loneliness. With another throb to his heart, Akira turned his eyes forward. The sound of the front door closing behind them was deathly final.

            To their surprise, it was Akira’s car that appeared in the driveway, black and glimmering in the morning light. Somehow he’d gotten a hold of Akira’s private number. But it wasn’t that shocking. After all, Satori was very rich, and had many means to gain what he desired.

            Once they were buckled and the car was moving Akira closed the soundproof window between them and the driver. “Shindou,” he said quietly. “Tell me what happened last night. Why did you sleep on the floor?”

            The uncomfortable silence that followed was very heavy. It made Akira nervous to think that something else might’ve happened while he was in his drunken stupor. Had he done the unthinkable? Or was it something entirely different?

            “Come on, Shindou,” he pressed.

            “Sorry,” Hikaru replied quickly. “I just don’t know how to put this in a way that won’t make you angry.” He crumpled under the wilting gaze of his rival. “When you cried out for Satori last night and he tried to comfort you, it was very… sexual.” He cringed. “I didn’t like the way he was treating you when you were drunk. It was like… well it was almost like he wanted to…”

Impatiently, Akira sighed through his nose. “To what?”

Hikaru met his eyes hesitantly. “I was afraid he wanted to rape you.”

Shock knocked the air from Akira’s lungs. He hadn’t even thought about that. In fact, it was something he should’ve considered earlier. Satori was always loose when it came to his sexuality but it was hard for him to be intimate because he was so closed off. Rarely did he ever sleep with anyone. And when he did, it was all very hush-hush. Akira knew for sure, as well, that Satori slept with both men and women, but rape? He shuddered. Satori had wanted to be close with him just as badly as Akira had wanted to be close to Satori. Would he have taken advantage of his weakened state to steal from him that kind of intimacy? Would it have meant anything if he had? No, Akira scolded himself. Of course not. But if he were at all tempted…

“Touya?” Hikaru said gently.

Snapping out of his thoughts, Akira released a breath he’d been holding and took a minute to catch his breath. “I… I can’t believe I didn’t…” He hesitated. Lifting his eyes to Hikaru’s, Akira found his shock fading into awe. “You protected me.”

Hikaru nodded shyly.

“Tell me what happened.”

“Well, Satori… he was circling you… the way he looked at you, well, it scared me… so I made up an excuse to stay. With me in the picture he seemed less keen on whatever he was planning to do.” Nervously, he looked at his hands in his lap. “I stayed up in bed with you, making sure you were breathing. I was awake all night listening for him to come back. When he didn’t, I thought it was wise to pretend to be asleep on the floor. Just in case.”

A torrent of emotion ripped through Akira’s chest. “You did all that for me?” He whispered.

“Of course!” Hikaru cried. “I’d never want anything to happen to you, Touya!”

Memories of last night piqued his attention. “Akira,” Akira said suddenly.

“W-What?”

“Last night, you called me Akira.”

Hikaru blushed red up to his ears. “I-I didn’t think you’d remember.”

“Hikaru. Please.” Akira held out his hand, pale and slender, looking his rival in the eye. “I’d like it very much if you called me Akira from now on.”

A moment of shock and pleasure passed through Hikaru like a jolt. He grasped the proffered hand firmly. “Of course… Akira.” He smiled affectionately. “I like the way you say my name.”

They drew back as the meaning behind Hikaru’s words became clear, both of them experiencing an acute sense of embarrassment. “Thank you for all you’ve done,” Akira managed. “I don’t know what would’ve happened if you weren’t there for me.”

“Unfortunately, I do,” Hikaru said quietly. “I’d stay away from Satori if I were you.”


	6. Lightbulb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira comes to the conclusion that he feared most.

Akira thought for a long time about that night. He realized now that he had a lot of unresolved problems that needed to be addressed; namely, where his desires were stemming from and why they were so powerful. Being unable to keep his barriers up when he was intoxicated had shown him just how strong those feelings were. Sure, he’d been attracted to Satori, but was that really all? He’d acted so loosely. Even now he could replay that night over in his mind and feel just what he’d been feeling, over and over, and it scared him. He’d been so willing to do something sexual with Satori.

 There was a serious matter he needed to consider. He canceled his matches for the rest of the week, shocking the GO community, and put up for a stay in a Western hotel on the bay. With his successful pro career he’d managed to make quite a bit of money. Akira was a simple soul. All he really wanted was a home to himself – which would happen soon enough – and the essentials. He thought it acceptable that he splurge on himself this once. He had a very powerful decision to make.

It was growing colder out. The off season had just begun, so the hotel was quiet, just like Akira had wanted. The pool area was always echoingly empty. It was there where he spent most of his time. Sitting watching the waves reflect the light on the ceiling and listening to the sound of the water soothed him. And so Akira thought.

Ever since he was young, he’d focused on GO alone. His personal feelings had rarely come into play. Besides his very emotional competitive relationship with Hikaru Shindou, Akira Touya had never done anything for himself. He’d been raised to ignore his personal wants and had allowed his entire life to be dictated by other people. It was just the way things were.

So it was only natural that he’d ignored his personal desires. If he thought hard enough, Akira could remember the first crush he’d ever had. It hadn’t been someone in his class, or a friend, but a GO player he’d seen during a dan match. Often he’d watch games with his father as a child. He’d been quiet natured and sweet to everyone, earning a lot of affection amongst his father’s friends. They’d allow him to sit and watch GO games unless it was very important. Once there was a recent one dan facing off against a very powerful GO player when Akira was only five years old, and he’d been too enamored by the young player to focus at all on the game.

The one dan had just passed the pro test. Akira had forgotten his name now, but he could clearly see the boy in his t-shirt and ripped jeans, sitting respectfully at attention. He had wild blond hair and sharp grey eyes, his handsome face expressive and sincere. His hands moved the stones so fluidly that Akira had totally lost himself in his crush on him. For weeks after the match he’d colored crude pictures of them playing GO together. For years after, impressions of that first crush had subtly followed him.

Akira thought of that boy now and got the same rush of affection he’d felt back then. His first love had been a boy. The more he thought, the more he could remember specific boys he’d been attracted to throughout the years, and his heart began to spike with panic. Was this really the truth? Had he really never loved a girl? No. No, not that he could remember.

Satori had been his most recent crush. Of course it hadn’t seemed that way before. Before, Akira had thought their tension to be of an awkward kind. But now he could clearly see the line drawn between sexual tension and awkward tension. The lingering glances, the lingering hands, the press of his body; Akira was awash with those familiar and impossibly strong urges. They gripped him, thundering his heart and warming his blood.

He put his head in his hands. How had he not noticed that he was in love with boys? Had he buried his feelings that deep? Taking a deep breath, Akira ran through New Year’s night in his head again. The romantic goodbye. Setting him up with someone new. He felt the flush of Satori’s body and grew aroused at the thought. He would’ve blossomed for Satori like a flower if he’d been able to respond to those advances when he was sober. Why hadn’t he offered them earlier? It had been so easy for him to lie on top of him when he was intoxicated. He, like Akira, was shy. Akira resolved to talk to him about it. A phone call might clear things up.

And Hikaru. His savior. It made his blood run cold to think of his body being violated. Never before had he ever considered such a thing, but how naïve he must be - just because he could suppress his desires didn’t mean that others could as well. From now on he’d have to be more careful. He’d been wrong to shut Hikaru out, too, just because they were so competitive. Maybe he was angry because he was afraid of how emotionally attached he was to Hikaru. It did seem horrible to consider the day that they would no longer be able to compete. What would he do then, with no one to challenge him?

Leaning his chin in his hands, he peered deeply into the still pool water. Yes, he’d misjudged his harsh tone towards Hikaru, but what of his feelings? It was still hard to discern between what was expected and what was real. What did he feel towards Hikaru?

As an exercise, he shut his eyes and allowed the image of Hikaru’s face to fill his mind’s eye. Now what did he see? A smiling, dopey kid, overflowing with potential. He found his competitive spirit making a fuss and shut it out temporarily. Now was not the time to be petty. He thought about Hikaru’s eyes, how warm and open they were. He thought about the way his bangs touched his cheek when he bent over the GO board; he thought about his quiet intensity when he played, and how fluidly he allowed the stones to be placed. He saw a very cute boy with more talent than anyone else he knew. And, to his endless surprise, Akira felt a rush of affection that was mingled with conflict. He did like Hikaru. But he was too stuck in his ways. It was almost impossible for him to think of him kindly after so many years of anger and forced dislike.

Maybe… he could change.

That evening, standing on his balcony, Akira dialed Satori and leaned on the railing. He peered out over the bay intently as his phone connected them. It rang only twice before the low voice of his friend greeted him.

“Akira. I’m just packing to leave in the morning. How are you?”

“Satori,” Akira said stiffly. “I need to speak with you. Is it a bad time?”

“Of course not. Please, Akira, go on.”

“I…Well…” Sighing, Akira knelt slowly to sit on the concrete balcony. He leaned his forehead against the metal railing, staring at his lap. How was he going to approach this?

“Is this about the other night?”

“How did you know?”

“I figured you might remember what had happened. At least, some of it.”

“Yes.” Akira paused. “Why didn’t you do those things to me before, Satori?”

“I’m not sure to what you’re referring.”

“Yes you are,” Akira snapped. “You responded to me with your body when I was drunk. It… I was… I didn’t understand then why I liked it so much, but now I…”

“Akira.”

“Y-Yes?”

“Forgive me, please.” His words temporarily knocked away Akira’s. The silence that followed was expectant.

“… I forgive you. Of course I do.” Akira rubbed his face. “Why, Satori? Why did you do it?”

“Akira… You don’t understand,” Satori began. “I hadn’t realized before how identical our feelings were. All I knew was that you treated me passionately, and I felt passionately for you. To hear you cry out my name… to have you beg me to stay, I…” His trembling voice faded into nothing. He took a breath and tried again. “Your cries revealed to me the truth. That you felt as I did. I would’ve done anything to have you be sober in that moment, if only to share that moment of passion with you.”

“But I wasn’t sober.”

“No. And I’m ashamed of how I acted. But please understand, Akira. I’ve longed all my life to hear someone say my name the way that you said it that night.”

Akira blushed, and tears stung his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“As am I.” Satori shifted on the line, creating fuzzy feedback. “Please don’t cry. You didn’t know how you felt any more than I did.”

“But I do now!” Akira cried. “Will you still not stay? Not even for me?”

“I can’t!” Satori broke. “I wanted to do terrible things in my desperation to feel your love. I wanted it more than anything! If Shindou hadn’t protected you, I don’t know what I would’ve done.” He put the phone aside and cursed before nestling it back against his ear. “I’m not ready. I’m not right yet, Akira. I need to leave. To get better.” His tone softened. “I’m sick. I need help… I’m getting help.”

“That’s why you’re leaving? Because you’re sick?”

“Yes. Akira, there are things wrong with me that I need to fix, but you can’t wait for me. I won’t be the same when I return. You won’t be able to love me if I change, but I have to change to get better.”

“Satori…” Tears streamed down Akira’s face. His throat swelled with emotion, and he could speak no more. How could he find the words to describe how he was feeling?

“I’ve spoken to Hikaru on several occasions and I know how he feels about you. I want you to be safe. I know he will protect you while you explore those feelings you’ve been keeping locked away in the dark.” Akira heard Satori smile over the line, as illogical as it sounded. “Remember the kindness he’s shown you. Repay him. Give Hikaru a chance. And Akira?”

Akira made a muffled sound that sounded piteous through his sobs.

“I love you.”

Click.

Letting the phone roll out of his hand, Akira sobbed openly into the night. His heart felt like it was torn in half. Clutching his chest and withdrawing deep into himself, Akira could find no way to shut off his tears and no way to stop the pain he was feeling.

He released his sadness until he was exhausted from crying. Then he sat silently, as empty as a chasm, seeing nothing but Satori’s face hovering in the waves far below. Everything seemed suspended in a breath of anticipation. Then, the phone rang.


	7. New Hopes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A whole new world opens to Akira.

Akira grabbed the phone desperately. It was Satori again! It had to be Satori calling to tell him that he’d decided to stay! “Hello?” Akira cried into the line.

            “Akira? Are you there?”

It was Hikaru!

Confused, Akira looked down at the phone. It had dialed Hikaru when it slipped from his hands. Akira quickly pressed the phone to his ears and cleared his throat. “An accident. I’m sorry to have bothered you,” he said quietly.

“You were crying! What’s wrong? Are you all right? What happened?” Desperation filled Akira’s ears. So Hikaru was, again, here at his lowest moment.

“I… I…” Akira rubbed his eyes. “Hikaru, I think I need to see you.”

“W-What? Me?”

“I’m at Hotel Okura Tokyo Bay. Room 415.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can!”

Click.

Akira listened to the phone buzz with a dead line. He took the phone away from his ear and looked down at it blankly. What was he doing? He’d just managed to become friends with Hikaru, why was he dragging him all the way to the hotel?

There was a tremble in his hands as he put the phone down on the concrete face-up in case Hikaru called back. With his arms around his knees he leaned against the railing again and waited, peering out over the black water with darkness in his heart. He couldn’t tell where the bay stopped and the sky began. It all rippled endlessly, shimmering and flickering as tears gathered in his lashes.

It didn’t take long for Hikaru to call back. Akira jumped when the phone rang, hastily wiping his nose on the back of his hand before he picked it up. “Yes?”

“I’m outside the door.”

“What? Already?”

“I was in town.”

“One minute,” Akira said, scrambling to get to his feet. The phone dangled at his side as he pulled the door open.

Hikaru stood in the dim hallway with a hesitant look and his cell still pressed to his ear. His shirt was on backwards and his socks were two different colors but he’d made it in record time. “The cab was quick,” he quipped, cracking a grin.

“Please come in,” Akira managed, stepping back. He knew he probably looked terrible. He was in a bathrobe and blue boxers, fresh out of the shower, with damp hair and red-rimmed eyes. He could feel how puffy his face was from crying. “You were in town?”

Rubbing his head, Hikaru did as he was told, glancing around the nice hotel room with interest. “Yes. I didn’t feel tired, so I was wandering around.” He watched Akira close the door. “You came here… alone?”

“Yes.” As Akira glided across the room to make them tea, Hikaru’s eyes followed him. “I… needed some room to think.”

“A whole hotel?”

Cracking a smile, Akira glanced at him coyly. “A whole hotel.”

The end of the bed creaked as Hikaru sank down onto it. “What’s wrong, Akira?” He pressed. “When I answered the phone, all I heard was…”

The plastic teapot steamed and squealed. Carefully, Akira poured them both tea and uncapped the sugar bowl. He tucked his hair behind his ear. Taking a seat at a small table, he glanced between the tea and Hikaru, his eyes heavy with unsaid words. “I called Satori,” he began.

 Hikaru’s eyes hardened. “What did he tell you that upset you so much?”

“He said… that he loved me,” Akira whispered. Hikaru colored and his face grew clouded with concern. “It’s not what it seems. I mean, I guess it is, but… he’s still leaving and he won’t come back. He even told me why this time.” The tea cup shook in his hands as he raised it to his lips. “He’s sick.”

Slowly, Hikaru rose and came to the table, taking a seat across from Akira. He dropped two sugars into his tea. “He made you cry.”

The harshness of his tone surprised Akira. He’d expected Hikaru to be overly worried or even shocked, but not angry. “Yes, he did. But it was partly my fault.”

“How?” Hikaru asked.

“I didn’t understand what was going on between us. Now it’s too late.”

“That’s not your fault, Akira.”

“Then whose fault is it?” Akira retorted.

“Satori’s!” Hikaru snapped, banging his fist on the table. “He knew!”

Akira stared at him. “Hikaru.” He eased his teacup back onto its plate. “It’s complicated.”

“No, it’s not.”

“What?”

“It’s not complicated!” Hikaru argued. “If you love someone, you tell them! You don’t wander around feeling sorry for yourself! Then no one’s happy! If Satori really loved you, he would’ve confessed in person!”

“What if I didn’t understand him?” Akira cried. “What if it had gone all wrong and I’d hurt him?”

Hikaru’s eyes swam with feeling. “There’s no mistaking true love.” Akira’s anger evaporated. Wide-eyed, he sat back staring at Hikaru who had his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white. “So you…” Hikaru swallowed. “You like boys?”

Shit, Akira thought. A pit opened up in his stomach. He hadn’t even thought about what this would imply – what it would mean! “Hikaru - please don’t tell my father! Oh, God,” Akira gasped. “What’s my mother going to say when she finds out? Jesus… They’re going to be so disappointed…” A wave of depression crashed over Akira, pouring tears from his eyes and crushing his heart into dust. He loved them so much. What would they do? What would _he_ do?

“Akira, no!” Hikaru picked up his chair to move it beside Akira’s. Leaning in close, he put his arm around his shoulders and hugged him tightly. “I’m sorry, please don’t worry! I won’t tell anyone!” He rubbed Akira’s arm vigorously. “I swear – I swear not to tell a soul!”

“What am I going to do?” Akira wept. “I have to get married! I have to have children! What am I going to tell my wife? What if she hates me forever? How could she live with me?” The warmth of Hikaru’s arms made him feel safe giving vent to all his darkest fears, allowing them to pour out of him in a torrent. He cried until he was exhausted again. Then he rested his forehead on Hikaru’s shoulder and grabbed a fistful of his shirt. “Hikaru… please… what do I do…?”

“Akira, I need you to listen to me.”

“…Ok…?”

            Touching his cheek to Akira’s head, Hikaru began to rub Akira’s arm soothingly. “Take a deep breath.” He patiently waited until he felt Akira’s shoulders rise and fall. “Now, sit up.” It was harder for Akira to sit up than it was for him to breathe, but he managed it, wiping his nose with his robe sleeve. Hikaru reached over and pushed the tears off his cheeks with a gentle thumb. “Good. Look at me, Akira.” When their eyes met Akira saw Hikaru’s radiant smile. He felt like melted butter was being poured into the black pit in his heart. “You’re going to be amazing. That, I can promise you.”

            Akira stared into his teacup as Hikaru wrapped his hands around it. He heard the sound of Hikaru drinking his tea, he even felt the heat of the cup warming his own hands, but he could think only about one thing. “Hikaru.” He lifted his head. “You… don’t mind that I’m…?”

            “Gay? No way!” Hikaru grinned. “To tell you the truth, I’m the same.”

            “WHAT?!”

            “Yeah! It’s a long story, actually…” Hikaru lowered his empty teacup until it slid snugly onto the indented plate. “I know that New Years was hard for you. But I’m really glad it happened. You learned the truth about Satori, and we got our first chance to be friends. But Akira…” He laughed awkwardly. “This is going to sound hypocritical now. I shouldn’t have yelled earlier - I’m sorry.”

            Akira pushed his tea aside. “I don’t care about that! What do you mean? Do you like boys, too? When did you know?”

            “Calm down!” Hikaru blushed. “I told you, it’s gonna sound ridiculous now.”

            “So? I just spilled all of my worst secrets to you!”

            “Uh, you’re right. I guess it’s only fair. Especially after…”

            “HIKARU!”

            “Ok, ok!” Taking a deep breath, Hikaru looked away, blushing madly. “I started to have feelings for a boy a few years ago. It was my first real crush.”

“Who?” Akira pressed.

Hikaru peeked up at him from behind his bangs. “You,” he admitted sheepishly.


	8. Foreboding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sai doesn't hold as much confidence in their predicament as Hikaru does. Who is truly right?

Shocked, Akira rocked back in his chair. Hikaru? Feelings for him? Steam poured out of his ears. There was no way this was happening. There was just no way.

Hikaru continued, speaking rapidly. “I didn’t do anything about it because you were always so angry with me that I knew it would never work. But I really admired you, you know? The way you played was amazing, plus you were always so powerful looking, I-I was sort of swept away by my feelings.”

“You…! But you always pick a fight with me!” Akira cried accusingly.

“Because you’re always terse with me for no reason! I get frustrated!”

It was true. Wow, everything really was his fault. Akira felt his face heat up. “And you had to see me with Satori, and listen to my sob story…!”

“Yeah, imagine. There were two guys in the same house who were in love with you. One is a rapist and the other is an idiot.”

“Hikaru…” Akira took his hand, squeezing it. “You’re not an idiot. I’m the one who pushed you away for so long.” He lowered his eyes. “I’m also the one who had no idea that I was in love with a rapist.”

A thundercloud passed over Hikaru’s face. He retracted his hand defensively. “Then… you do love Satori?”

Akira’s brow knitted. “I’m sorry, I was just afraid to say it. Satori made me realize my feelings. I do love him, in a way, but it’s never going to happen between us.” He sighed. “I was so upset because he told me that he loved me and in the same breath said that he was leaving forever. It’s one thing to learn that you like men. It’s another thing entirely to gain a love and lose it in the same day.” Depression licked at his heart once more, but he fought down his tears. He was fed up with crying.

“I should’ve waited to confess to you.” Hikaru looked away. “I know you’re in a lot of pain right now. It was selfish of me to say anything.”

“No!” Akira protested, and Hikaru looked up at him in alarm. “I’m glad you told me! It makes things… easier to bear.” He studied Hikaru with shy eyes. “It’s comforting to know that someone like you loves me.”

The flustered reaction he solicited from Hikaru was so cute that Akira could find no room for anything in his heart except affection. He got to his feet, straight-backed and polite, and held out his hand. Hikaru followed suit and grasped it awkwardly.

“I think that’s enough confession for one night. Thank you for everything,” Akira said gently. “I can never repay you for the comfort you’ve given me tonight or for the protection you gave me on New Year’s Eve, but I will never stop trying to return the kindness that you’ve shown me.”

Hikaru shook his head. “No thanks is needed. I’ll continue to do everything I can to help.” He gripped Akira’s hand. “Please, let our next call not be an accident.”

The wave of emotion that rose within Akira was unnamed and foreign. He could only nod fiercely and release the hand when it was time to do so. Hikaru walked out with long purposeful strides. He had the courtesy to close the door gently behind him, and Akira heard him calling for a cab on his way to the elevator.

Should I have asked him to stay? Akira asked himself. He blushed.

“No,” he said aloud, locking the door and turning off the light with a sigh. For he was weary of realizations and needed, if only for a few hours, a reprieve of slumber.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Hikaru arrived home with an anxious heart. He’d left in such a blind hurry a few hours before that his mother, waiting up for him, called him into the kitchen to ask for his whereabouts that night. He impatiently apologized for leaving so suddenly but at the time of his departure he’d been plagued by doubts and had become ravenous for fresh air. Circling the city seemed to ease his conscious.

“When I was out, Akira called me,” he explained. “He’d dialed my number by accident, but… well, he sounded like he needed a friend. So I went to see him.”

“At home?” His mother queried. “Was his father there?”

Hikaru took a bottle of water from the fridge and cracked it open. “No. Akira’s staying in a hotel this week. He needed a break.”

“A whole week! What’s he doing, taking a vacation twenty minutes from home?”

“Sort of, yeah.”

Mrs. Shindou colored. “You didn’t sleep with him, did you?”

“What?! No!”

“What other reason does a boy get a hotel room away from his family than for sex?” Guilty, Mrs. Shindou polished a clean spot on the counter.

Although he understood where she got the idea, thinking about Akira being promiscuous tweaked Hikaru. The Akira he knew was strictly moral. The reason he was getting away from everyone was because he was hurt. “He’s not like that,” Hikaru muttered, drinking half the bottle of water in one gulp.

Mrs. Shindou eyed him. “You’re sure he isn’t? I know boys, you’re all the same.”

“Not at all!” Hikaru sighed. “Mom, Akira’s under a lot of pressure all the time. He just wants to be alone.”

“Then why did he call you to come see him?”

“Because… because…” Hikaru groaned in frustration. “Because he doesn’t have anyone else! Can you just drop it?”

“Fine! No need to snap! You boys aren’t exactly on the best of terms, according to the news. I don’t know why someone like that would call you.”

“We made up recently.”

“Did you?”

“Yeah,” Hikaru breathed. His mind fizzled. He saw Akira staring at him intently with his reddened cheeks and demanding that they be friends. Then he saw him stretched out on Satori’s bed with his face twisted in desire and his shirt unbuttoned, making Hikaru’s heart flutter against his ribcage like a frightened quail.

Mrs. Shindou cracked a grin. “You’re blushing, Hikaru! Are you sure you’re not sleeping with him?”

Hikaru’s voice was in monotone. “I’m sure,” he said over his shoulder as he walked away.

His mother leaned out of the kitchen to watch him mount the stairs. “How peculiar!” She muttered to herself, flicking off the lights. “Akira Touya, making up with my Hikaru! How long has it been? Four years? Five?”

The upstairs landing was as silent as death. Hikaru ran himself a hot bath, turning down his bed and plugging his phone into the charger. His eyes lingered on the glow of his phone screen. Akira might call again, so for tonight he’d leave the sound on. As he shut himself in the bathroom and peeled off his clothes he wondered what it was going to be like in public for Akira and himself now that they were friends. Maybe they should do a political stunt where they make up; that way they don’t have to answer too many questions. Hikaru stood naked as he watched the water rise in the tub. No. Akira wouldn’t want that. He’d prefer to keep their personal lives personal. The news could make up whatever they wanted to explain their sudden lack of ferocity against one another.

The faucets squeaked as he turned them off. Easing down into the scalding water, Hikaru let out a hiss as he allowed his body to be swallowed up. He let out an exaggerated sigh and let his head fall back against the lip of the tub. So much had changed in a few days. Only three nights ago he’d been his normal self; practicing GO diligently, planning for college, bottling his anticipation about seeing Akira face to face again. And now…

“Hikaru,” came a familiar voice.

Glancing over, Hikaru saw Sai kneeling patiently in the corner with his eyes on the door. His shimmering form was all billowing white clothing and long elegant purple hair. “What is it, Sai?” Hikaru asked curiously.

Sai had seen everything Hikaru had. Because of his age, he knew much more about matters like this, and Hikaru was eager to hear what he had to say. He’d wanted to ask sooner but pressing Sai only resulted in silence. When he was ready, he spoke. And Sai seemed ready. Pressing his fan to his lips, Sai glared a hole in the door. “I’m not sure how this ends.”

Hikaru felt a stab of panic. “What do you mean?”

“You and Akira. Two powerful beings battling constantly for power.” Sai turned his head slightly to look at him. “The pond is very small, Hikaru. Can you both be content sharing it?”

“You’re inside my head, Sai,” Hikaru shot back. “Don’t you know the answer to that already?”

Sai sighed. “I’m afraid I don’t. There’s only so much I have access to.”

Hikaru let his knees fall open in the bath, and he stared at his hands in his lap as they shimmered beneath the docile waves. “I’d do anything to have us compete forever.”

“But if one of you wins out against the other, won’t there be animosity?”

“Sai,” Hikaru said quietly. “If I allow my love to be so easily poisoned, what kind of love is it?” A comfortable silence followed. Sai was smiling when Hikaru glanced his way, and he watched him rise and leave, passing easily through the door. All the better he leave, Hikaru thought covertly. He had thoughts about Akira swirling in his head and he wanted to play them out alone for as long as he could.


	9. Disgrace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira makes a choice that will define him forever.

The crisp sound of papers flipping broke the silence of the empty room. All was still. Akira turned the page slowly, gathering the details of every GO board and the contents of its moves, but for some reason it was hard for him to focus. No matter how much he tried he could not discern one game from another. He flipped back and forth finding that they were in fact the same game over and over. The moves were all similar; two equally strong players in a dance for power stepped around one another impatiently; ground was lost, and regained; fake moves were made; and in the end, the board came to a perfect draw, with no lack of effort on either side.

He stared at the board on the page for some time. It seemed like the players knew one another. It was a very personal game. Just as he was about to replay it entirely in his mind, the only door in the room opened with a hasty squeak of hinges. Akira turned in surprise. There, in the doorway, was a breathless Hikaru.

A rush of warm feelings filled Akira’s heart. He couldn’t find the words for them but instead dropped the book and held out his hands, beckoning Hikaru forward. The other boy’s face contorted with a mixture of joy and something Akira was unfamiliar with. It looked almost like desperation. But the closer Hikaru drew to him, the more personal it became. When Hikaru was toe to toe with him Akira could finally understand the feverish look in his eyes. It wasn’t just desperation but lust, which makes the heart wildly desperate.

The door slammed shut. Akira gasped as Hikaru enveloped him with his body, their mouths meeting with sanguine passion. The taste was exactly what he’d been dreaming of and twice as paralyzing. He felt his knees weaken beneath him until all that was holding him up was Hikaru himself. His eyes fluttered closed and his body yielded to the eager hands that gripped him by the waist, running his fingers along the soft material of his shirt.

Feeling lustful, safe, and very tired all at once, Akira felt himself falling. They fell together onto a bed that appeared somehow out of nowhere and all around them fell showers of GO pieces, which bounced off the bed and rained down onto the floor with a beautiful cacophony of sound that was music to Akira’s ears. He felt Hikaru kissing his throat, flowers of lust blossoming beneath his lips, and when he reached up he felt Hikaru’s bare body moving against his own. The flesh there was supple. He clung to Hikaru for dear life in the chaos of their passionate dance.

 

* * *

 

 

            Akira woke with a start. The hotel room around him swam with blinding sunlight as he listened to the anxious pounding of his heart, lying twisted in his sheets. He sat up slowly with a hand over his bare chest. After that New Year’s night he’d finally been able to sleep soundly again despite the turmoil arising in his life – or, in contrast, because of how much it exhausted him to think about. He’d yet to have such a strange and surprising dream as that one had been.

Why would he have a sex dream about Hikaru? Looking down at his hands, Akira could still feel the paper of the book that held all of the identical GO games as if the ghost of it were still there, resting against his palms. He lifted his eyes to the window and felt his face heating up. He’d barely had time to consider the fact that Hikaru had feelings for him, but he’d known him for so long that maybe his subconscious was already used to the idea. Hikaru in my arms, he thought wistfully. Hikaru in love with me.

Slowly, Akira untangled himself from the bedsheets. Everything was happening so fast. His whole life was changing. There was only one thing left to do, and that was to stop trying to understand it and enjoy the ride. Akira was attracted to boys in a new and exciting way. Hikaru, who he’d just managed to befriend, was actually in love with him. And now he was having thoughts about Hikaru that were equally as new and exciting as discovering that he desired boys.

What, then, was the next step?

Akira couldn’t stifle an anxious smile. He knew what to do. He picked up the phone and ordered breakfast; he picked out his clothes for the day; he freshened up, dressed, packed up his suitcase, and ate. Then he took his things and left the hotel. The short drive home filled his head with doubts but he forced himself to focus. This was going to be hard for everyone. He had to do this now, before the press caught wind of it and before stories were released recounting Hikaru’s late night visit to his empty hotel room on the bay.

He called both of his parents into the living room as soon as he arrived. His suitcase sat at his feet as he eased gingerly onto the couch. Akira held an intense and weighted gaze with his father, who was already angry with him. He was always stern about something. And when they’d both taken their seats and asked their questions, he held up his hand politely for silence. Both fell into a surprised hush.

“I took this week off because I needed to think about a lot of things,” he began carefully. “Namely, the night that I didn’t come home. New Year’s Eve. I said that I’d just gotten too tired to leave, but… that was a lie.” He paused to let that sink in.

“Akira!” His father whispered harshly.

Meeting his furious gaze, Akira nodded solemnly. “I know. I didn’t want to lie to you both but I didn’t want you worrying about the truth before I understood it fully myself.”

“What is the truth, Akira?” His mother pressed quizzically.

Akira took a deep breath and told them everything. About Satori, about Hikaru, and about his recent realizations, leaving out only the sexual parts which were too inappropriate. He even told them about last night. At the end of everything, it was blatantly obvious that he was into boys, that Satori had almost taken advantage of him when he was intoxicated, and that Hikaru Shindou, his rival, had helped him twice during this difficult time and was now the central focus of his affections.

It was a wild and shocking story that baffled both of his parents. His mother took it considerably well, seeing as she was the one who yearned for grandchildren, but he’d known beforehand that any animosity she had towards his story would fade over time. She loved him very deeply. He loved her as well, despite his tendency to be private or closed off towards her. It was difficult, which she knew, for a boy to confide in his mother when he was trying to become a man. He answered her many queries truthfully and kindly, patient to reply to even the smallest question. This was a lot for anyone to take in especially when it concerned their only child. 

Akira’s father sat in silence. Clearly, he was infuriated. He sat alongside his wife fuming, a cloud gathering into a giant mass across the sky before a violent storm. When Akira answered the last of his mother’s questions she respectfully got up and left the room. This was now a difficult conversation to be had between a boy and his father.

“Akira,” Touya Meijin said after a period of tense silence.

“Yes, father?” Akira replied.

Their gaze was even and unbroken. “I am disappointed that you have so little respect for your mother that you put her through these lies of yours so blatantly.”

Dumbfounded, Akira stared at him. “Father, I-”

“Could not possibly understand the implications of the story you have just told us,” Touya Meijin interrupted angrily. “By not addressing me first in private, you have ruined our opinions of you entirely! If you’d first come to me, at least I might’ve had the chance to spare my wife the shame of this conversation. I shudder at the very thought of my son,” Meijin spat, “being a _fag!”_

His last words smacked Akira in the face. He flinched back, cowed before the enormous anger of his father, a desperate concoction of anxiety and grief battling for control of his body. Even in his desperation, he found his lips frozen shut. There were no words to defend against this kind of personal onslaught. He sat in astonished silence unable to move or even breathe. Even expecting the blow did not lessen its agonizing ferocity.

“You will go to your mother presently and inform her that you lied to her face,” his father ordered. “You will hand over your cell phone immediately, and afterwards go to your room alone to think about what your outrageous tale might do to this family.” He held out his large rough hand expectantly. “Now. Before I take further action against your disgraceful person.”

Akira stared at the hand offered to him not in acceptance but in humiliation. A hard shell hardened around his heart. “I will not,” he whispered.

“What?” His father hissed.

Looking him in the eye, Akira fought back his terror. “I will not lie to my mother.”

Touya Meijin’s eyes flashed with fury. “You already have!” He snapped.

“No!” Akira cried. “My only lie was the one to keep you in ignorance of how much I was struggling with that which has so suddenly been thrust upon me!” These words more than any struck a blow to his father that, although it didn’t lessen his anger, surely made him think. It gave Akira courage to see the wheels in his head turning in a new direction if only for a moment. “This has been an impossible few days for me,” Akira continued shakily. “It brings me no joy to tell you that your only son will never marry or bear you grandchildren. My heart is in violent turmoil over the shame I feel. I am ashamed and confused, but I can no longer lie about the way I feel.” He felt his throat tighten with tears. “To deny myself would be a dishonor to the way you’ve raised me. It would be a dishonor to myself.”

Shocked and appalled as his father was, Touya Meijin sat for some time in conflicted contemplation. His clenched fists were white knuckled and his jaw trembled with the might of his gritted teeth, the very air around him growing heated and agitated. Akira saw in his countenance that he was walking a fine line between raising his hand to deliver a blow and restraining the worst of his insults from his only son.

“Please.” Akira broke eye contact and bowed low, touching his forehead to the floor. “Please, father, forgive me. But I cannot do as you ask.”

            He rose without waiting for an answer. From his pocket he produced his cell phone, which he placed on the floor before his kneeling father. But before he could release it his hand was grabbed firmly by his father’s. Akira froze.

            “Leave this house,” Meijin said in a voice devoid of the intense emotion he felt. “And take with you your disgrace.”


	10. Guardian Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's only one person left for Akira to turn to.

Hikaru had just pulled on a t-shirt and jeans when he heard a knock at the front door. His mother was out shopping so he was the only one home but he hadn’t been expecting anyone. Pulling on socks, he quickly descended the stairs and opened the door before whoever it was turned around and left. There, walking away with his suitcase in hand, was a familiar form.           “Touya!” Hikaru called out. “Wait! What are you doing here?”

            Akira froze mid-step. His shoulders were drawn in and the suitcase trembled almost imperceptibly in his hand. “I shouldn’t have come,” he said over his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

            “What? Why?” Hikaru struggled into his sneakers and ran to Akira, resting a hand on his shoulder as he drew close enough to see his forlorn face. He felt a cold icy hand grip his heart.

            “You’ve already done too much on my behalf.” Akira’s voice trembled with emotion; he couldn’t bring himself to look Hikaru in the eye, because he knew that if he did he’d be overcome.

            Grabbing his bag, Hikaru took Akira by surprise. “Come inside!” He urged. “Tell me what’s happening. I’ll make some tea.” He vanished into the house but left the door ajar.

Akira’s blank stare followed him. He had no choice but to follow. As if he were in a daze, he walked into Hikaru’s house and shut the door behind him, leaning against it as he took a look around. It was nothing like his own home. Here things were much more Western, with colorful wallpaper and smooth hardwood floors. The coat racks were filled all the way up, the shoes were in a disarray – even the table by the door had a cute basket filled with keys, change and other odds and ends. It looked lived in. It looked like home.

“In here!” Hikaru said, poking his head out of the kitchen. “Come sit down.”

Akira stared at him helplessly. Seeing Hikaru like this, at home, brought back feelings from his dream last night. It was a surreal experience that unnerved him. He felt like he might still be dreaming and if that were the case, he was hesitant to reach the end of it for fear of being overcome with lust again. It was those dangerous feelings that had ruined him. Yet, to his own surprise, he found himself removing his shoes and obeying Hikaru’s beckoning. He felt as helpless and weak as a lost child.

The padded chairs at the dining room table were soft and the table was high. It gave Akira a sense of security in the torrent of his mind. He stared at the woven placemat devoid of all physical feeling. All he could think about were his tumultuous emotions.

Hikaru placed a steaming mug of hot tea in a saucer before him. “I know you like it strong,” he said, plopping sugar into his own mug. “But I can’t stand tea without sugar.” He took the seat alongside him and cradled the mug in his lap. “Akira?”

Unmoving, Akira made a sound of acknowledgement.

“I put your things upstairs in my room.”

Breaking from his trance, Akira lifted his eyes at last. He found in Hikaru’s gaze a comfort that surpassed physicality. “Why?” He whispered.

“Because I want you to stay,” Hikaru said firmly.

            “Hikaru?” Sai spoke up from across the table. “Akira? Stay here?”

            Sai, Hikaru thought towards him. Akira could’ve just gone home. Why else would he be here with a suitcase unless he’d tried to go back but his father told him no?

            Sai sat back, in shock. “I can’t believe Meijin would throw out his own son!”

            Yeah. Hikaru’s eyes were hard. But if he told him the truth, I can’t say I’m surprised.

            Akira was giving Hikaru a confused stare. It was heartbreaking to see Akira look so defeated. “You would…” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “You would let me stay?”

            Reaching out, Hikaru patted Akira’s back warmly. “Don’t act so surprised! After everything we talked about, you still don’t get it?” He grinned. “This is what you do for your friends!”

“Really?”

“Yes. Really. If you want, you can stay as long as you need to.”

            “I see.” Akira looked down at his tea. “I’m sorry for acting this way. Everything is happening so quickly, I just… I don’t know what’s going on anymore.” Hikaru jumped as he felt Akira take his hand and squeeze it tightly. “Hikaru. Thank you.” Their eyes met. “Your kindness is without comparison. You’ve been the only one that I can trust with the truth who hasn’t turned me away.”

            “So, then your father…?”

            “Yes. He told me I was disgraced.”

            “What? Jesus…” Hikaru got a shiver of anxiety. That must’ve been horrible to experience. He didn’t have a father but if that happened to him, his entire world would have been sucked out from beneath him. That, he knew, was only a fraction of Akira’s pain. Hikaru steeled himself. He threaded his fingers together with Akira’s and returned the pressure affectionately.

In the sea of emotion in Akira’s eyes Hikaru noticed a flicker of abashment.

“I’m here.” Hikaru said with conviction. “I’m here for you, Akira.”

            The feeling of Hikaru’s hand in his own and his kind words together were too much to handle on top of everything else. Tears snuck into the corners of Akira’s eyes and smarted as they escaped in steams down his flushed cheeks. He said nothing; he couldn’t. He wept quietly, wrapping his hand around the hot tea mug until it scalded him. The pain sparked more tears to fall but he did not let it go. The world swam wildly, crashing down all around his head in a chaos of debris. He was anchored to sanity only by holding onto Hikaru, who drew in close until they were touching. He remained as his silent guardian.

When his fit of sadness had passed again into emptiness Hikaru led him upstairs. He put clean sheets on the bed, brought out a clean towel for him, and began to clear space in his drawers for Akira’s clothing. All the while Akira stood in the corner by his suitcase, having withdrawn inside himself. He allowed autopilot to govern his body as he retreated into the furthest reaches of his mind. Not for answers, but to escape the truth that his life as he knew it was over.

Hikaru guided Akira into bed. He tucked him in fully dressed, pausing only to pull the covers up over his shoulder. “Try to rest,” he said quietly. “When you feel up to it, we’ll put our heads together and figure out what to do. Ok?”

Numbly Akira nodded. The warmth of the bed, the oddly familiar scent of Hikaru on the blankets, and the comfort he felt in Hikaru’s hands allowed him to fully relax. Maybe if he tried to sleep, he would awake from this dream and enter another, less painful dream. His eyelids drooped. When they closed entirely, he felt Hikaru tuck his hair behind his ear. His skin was still tingling from his touch when the lights flicked off and the door closed with a gentle click.

 

* * *

 

 

“Hikaru…” Sai whispered, peering upstairs at the bedroom door. “Akira is in so much pain. What’s going to happen to him?”

The two of them sat on the couch. Hikaru was solemnly drinking his tea, staring at Akira’s steaming mug where it remained on the dining room table, and Sai was kneeling backwards so that he could keep an eye on the stairs in case Akira came down.

“I’ll look after him,” Hikaru answered promptly. “With my help, Akira will get back on his feet. He’ll make up with his father. Everything will work out - you’ll see.”

“And how do you feel?”

“About what?”

“You’re in love with him,” Sai said quietly. “He’s sleeping in your bed, living in your room. He’ll be here for a long time, Hikaru.”

“Not that long!” Hikaru blushed. “I’ll be ok.”

Sai lifted an eyebrow. “I noticed that Akira held your hand just now.”

“Yeah…” Hikaru said absently, but recovered. “Look, it’s fine! I’ll be there for him, but that’s it. He needs time to get himself together. What I feel doesn’t matter right now.”

Sai fell silent, looking from Hikaru to the bedroom door.

Sighing, Hikaru watched as the steam faded from the mug on the table. “Things will be back to normal soon. I’ll make sure of it.”


	11. Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira and Hikaru get used to the idea of living together.

When Hikaru heard the lock on the door turning, he knew his mother was home. He sprang off the couch and flung the door open. His mother jumped, almost dropping her bags, but Hikaru snatched them before they fell.  

“Mom!” He cried. “I have something important to tell you!”

“Hikaru!” Mrs. Shindou groaned. “You scared me senseless! Help me put these groceries away, will you?”

“Ok,” Hikaru muttered. “But I really have to tell you something first!”

“Ok, shoot.” Mrs. Shindou walked passed him into the house, kicking off her shoes before hurrying into the kitchen. She was stacking frozen food into the freezer when he followed her inside.

Putting down the bags, Hikaru began to rifle through them for more frozen things. “Do you remember me saying that I made up with Akira Touya?”

His mother frowned as she worked. “Of course. Isn’t he still thinking things over at the hotel?’

“No. He tried to go home, and his father turned him away!”

“W-What?” Mrs. Shindou froze, staring at him. “That’s terrible! Whatever for?”

“He… didn’t tell me,” Hikaru replied honestly. “But he has nowhere to go now. Could he stay here? With us?”

“You want him living here? Why can’t he stay in a hotel like before, Hikaru? Surely it’d be more comfortable for him there. We don’t even have a spare bed.”

“I’ll sleep on the floor!” Hikaru cried. “Mom, he’s really hurting right now. He needs somebody to be there for him. If he stays in a hotel, he’ll be all alone!”

His mother’s jaw dropped. “You’re serious!”

“Of course I am!”

“A week ago you couldn’t stand him, but now he’s going to be living here?”

“Basically!”

Sighing, Mrs. Shindou rubbed her face. “Ok. Fine. At least clean up the house before he gets here. God knows it looks like we live here alone.”

“Uh… he’s already here.”

“What? Where, Hikaru?”

Hikaru pointed upstairs. “Asleep in my room.”

Coyly, his mother eyed him. “Good. That gives you plenty of time to clean while you wait for him to wake up.”

“Mom…”

“No if’s, and’s, or but’s! If we have a guest in this house, I’ll burn it to the ground before I let them live in a mess! Now get to work! I’ll put the groceries away myself!”

“Yes, mom,” Hikaru muttered.

Sai, standing in the doorway, watched in awe. “Hikaru,” he laughed. “You never let your mother boss you around!”

I know, I know, Hikaru thought grouchily. But if she lets Akira stay, then I don’t care what she makes me do.

He dusted and vacuumed, mopped and scrubbed, polishing the countertops and tables until they shone. He even polished the banister with wood finish. His mother shooed him out of the kitchen while she made lunch, so he had to wait to clean it until after she was done, but when she was washed up and finished making sandwiches she realized that they had nothing for dinner. Grabbing a sandwich and her purse, she hastily put on her shoes and ran back to the store, screaming something about having to step up her game with a guest in the house. Hikaru prayed for a ham dinner as he bit into his cucumber sandwich with distaste.

The kitchen was polished clean in no time. While he washed the dishes Hikaru hummed his favorite pop song, the sound of running water muffling the sound of footsteps on the stairs. He noticed something out of the corner of his eye and turned to see Akira standing in the doorway gazing at his cold tea on the table. Hikaru brightened immediately.

“Akira!” He grinned. “How do you feel?”

“Better.” Politely, Akira took a seat in the same chair he’d been in before, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “I think today just took a lot out of me.”

Hikaru brought him the plate of sandwiches and popped his tea in the microwave on high. “I can’t even imagine,” he replied. “But I was thinking. Are you sure you want to stay here, Akira?”

Clearly, nothing else had occurred to the young Touya. He blinked at Hikaru. “What do you mean? Have you changed your mind? I can go-”

“No! No, it’s just, well…” Hikaru blushed. “After what I said, I just wonder if you’ll be comfortable here. I want you to stay. But if you have some other friends you’d rather be with…”

“I feel safer here with you.” Akira admitted softly. “I’m afraid I’ll have to hide the truth from everyone else. It would be unfair to them, and I’d feel worse knowing that the truth might cause them undue distress.” He looked up when the microwave beeped but Hikaru was just staring at him. His cheeks were very flushed. “Are you all right, Hikaru? Is it too weird for you, having me here?”

“No!” Hikaru blurted. “I… I’m just really happy you feel safe here, that’s all.”

Oh, Akira thought, embarrassed. I hadn’t realized I’d said that out loud. He thanked Hikaru when he got his tea back. This time when he touched it and it burned his hand, he pulled it away, watching Hikaru through the steam. “Do your parents mind that I’m here?”

“Mom’s fine with it, actually. I was surprised that she said yes.”

“And your father?”

Hikaru’s hand slipped on a plate in the sink and it clattered against the others. “Sorry, slippery hands.” He cleared his throat. “My dad left a long time ago.”

“Oh.” Akira thought about this for a minute. He had trouble pleasing his father and Hikaru longed to have a father. They had such different lives. “I’m sorry to have asked.”

“It’s fine! It was a long time ago!”

“Do you…”

“Hm? What, Akira?”

“Do you think… the reason we like boys… is because of our fathers?” Akira asked sadly.

Hikaru turned towards him. “What? Do you really think so?”

“I don’t know.”

“I don’t think so,” Hikaru mulled. “Maybe if I had a powerful force in my life like a dad, I might have been more ashamed when I started to like boys. But I don’t think him leaving affected my feelings like that. If anything, it should have made me more feminine, being around my mom all the time.” Akira laughed out loud. It made Hikaru jump a foot in the air because it was so sudden and unexpected, but he dissolved into laughter as well when he realized what he’d done. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh!” Hikaru giggled.

Covering his mouth, Akira grinned. “I can’t believe how stern I was around you. I’m always laughing when I’m at school.”

Finishing the dishes, Hikaru dried his hands and came to sit with Akira. “Eat!” He ordered, pushing the sandwiches closer to him. “You have to be hungry.”

“Not really. Not right now, anyway,” Akira said. A tinge of deeper sadness could be heard in his words. He sipped his tea, allowing it to warm him up.

Hikaru studied him for a minute. Akira’s clothes were rumpled with sleep, his normally perfect hair mussed like he’d been tossing and turning. His eyes were heavy. The collar of his shirt poking out of his sweater collar, too, was bent. Hikaru reached to straighten it and Akira flinched. He withdrew his hand quickly. “Sorry, force of habit. Mom always dresses in a hurry.”

“No, it’s…” Akira glanced at him. “It’s all right. I’m just jumpy.” They exchanged a look of subtle affection that made both of them feel a rush of shy feelings. Akira was too surprised to look away but Hikaru did, rubbing his neck awkwardly. “Hikaru?” Akira piped.

“Y-Yes?”

Akira hesitated. “We’re friends, right?”

“Of course!”

“Well… you’ve done a lot for me already, but I haven’t done anything for you.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll get the chance after you get better.”

“Is there nothing I can do now?”

“Don’t be so eager! I might ask you to throw a match or two so I can beat you!”

They laughed, but Akira persisted, leaning forward and gripping his warm tea with both hands. “Come on, try to think. There has to be something. Please?”

Hikaru was overwhelmed by his handsome pleading face. “I-I really just want you to be ok,” he confessed. “If you do that, well… I’ll consider us even.”

Thoughtfully Akira sat back. He fidgeted with his tea. When Hikaru snuck a glance at him, he was blushing. Akira caught him staring. “What about this?” Akira asked casually, lifting his arm across the table and holding out his hand for Hikaru to take. The hand was slender and pink around his fingertips. A smile accompanied it.

Hikaru’s heart thundered in his chest. “Uh… O-Ok, sure…” Slowly, deliberately, he touched Akira’s soft hand. The fingers flexed open to allow his between them and hungrily he threaded their fingers together. They fit like puzzle pieces. It thrilled Hikaru to be intimate like this with Akira. This, he thought, was on purpose! He wanted to hold my hand this time! It wasn’t because he was desperate or because he needed comfort but because… he knows that I like him, and because… maybe he likes me, too?

Hikaru’s head was spinning and his heart beat against his rib cage wildly, but Akira looked totally calm. He sipped his tea with the composure of a pro under pressure who’d just played the first solid move of a very, very long game of GO.


	12. Kindred Souls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Comfort comes in many guises.

They retreated into Hikaru’s room while his mother was cooking, but not before Akira bowed and sincerely thanked his mother for her hospitality. Her blushing reply was just what Hikaru had expected. Akira charmed all the girls with his manners. And yet as they mounted the stairs Akira hovered close to Hikaru; at one point, Hikaru wasn’t exactly sure if Akira did or didn’t pinch his shirt when he got too far ahead, trying to draw him back.

It was really nice having Akira around. When they were putting his stuff away in the room he insisted on keeping most of it in his suitcase to avoid cluttering up Hikaru’s space. He smiled warmly whenever Hikaru gave him something as if he’d been offered treasured bits of the boy himself which, in some ways, he had, and what he liked the most was a sphere of glass with a burst of color inside. He was polite and alert, always responding intelligently even when Hikaru mentioned something out of the blue. He even actively listened to all his funny stories.

When they settled down to read Akira poured over all sorts of different books that Hikaru gave him. Hikaru loved watching him pick through the manga and laugh at the outrageous jokes.  They sat close together on his bed, which Akira had neatly made, with their backs to the wall and their thighs pressed together. Every now and then Hikaru felt subtle tremors as Akira stifled his laughter. Pretending to read, Hikaru peeked over his manga at him, too excited about his presence to be covert. Unlike Hikaru, Akira appeared to be totally relaxed in his presence. He seemed to be a lot better now; instead of the pale, drawn look he’d carried in with him, a healthy color decorated Akira’s cheeks.

“Hikaru, you’ve done a good thing helping Akira,” Sai said suddenly, appearing alongside him.

Hikaru smiled affectionately. I hope so, he thought.

Akira bent his head to read something small and his nose scrunched up, his bangs flowing like a waterfall against his cheek and obscuring his eyes as he read, only to settle neatly back into place when he sat up again. He’d brushed his hair once they’d gotten back upstairs so his appearance was, for all intents and purposes, back to normal. Now he looked like he always did; he was poised, neat, and handsome. With exaggerated care he turned each thin page rapidly as he continued to read. His deep green eyes poured over each page and he was so thus engrossed that he didn’t notice Hikaru staring at him.

Actually, Hikaru was feeling a little restless. He wanted Akira to pay attention to him. It was selfish, he knew that, but there was an endless longing in his heart to have Akira’s sharp gaze weighing on him. He’d always felt that way, whether they got along or not. Now that he was receiving some positive attention the feeling had only grown more powerful. On top of that Akira had shown affection towards him today that he hadn’t expected. It made him eager for more.

He accidentally released a sigh of frustration before he thought about the fact that it was audible; at this, Akira looked up at once and caught a glimpse of Hikaru’s glum expression before he masked it with embarrassment. “Busted!” Sai teased.

            _Shut up!_ Hikaru thought desperately.

Akira’s heavy gaze weighed evenly on Hikaru. How beautiful those eyes were, their deep color like the roiling ocean. They were alert with wisdom and mischievous secrets that teased Hikaru with their unspoken whispers. “What’s wrong?” Akira asked.

Hikaru’s insides melted. “Sorry,” he managed. “I really like having you here, I… I wish we’d been able to do this sooner, you know?”

Carefully marking his place with a scrap of paper, Akira closed the manga book. “Because you like having me around, or because you have feelings for me?”

The question was so sudden that it caught Hikaru off guard which is probably just what Akira wanted. Beside him, for once, Sai was silent. “Both, I think,” Hikaru said honestly. “I have feelings for you _because_ of the way you make me feel. When you’re around things just seem… brighter. Clearer.” He put aside his own book. “Why? Does it matter?”

A little guiltily, Akira smiled at him. “A bit. It’s the difference between liking me and liking to hang out with me.”

Hikaru frowned. “It isn’t the same thing?”

“Think of it like this. If someone you spend time with only likes you for your looks, would you feel better or worse knowing that they didn’t like hanging out with you?”

“Worse. Definitely.”

“It’s sort of the same. You and I know each other really well. Did you start to like me because of who I was, or because of how I made you feel?”

“Because of how you made me feel, with your intensity,” Hikaru answered quietly. “But I want to know you. And I love what I do know about you already.” When Akira raised an eyebrow, Hikaru blushed. “You know. The way you talk, the way you play, how dedicated you are, how stubborn.”

“I’m definitely stubborn.”

“Very. But I am, too.”

“Incredibly,” Sai offered, and received an icy glance from Hikaru.

Akira lowered his eyes. “I’m sorry for the pressing questions. I’m new to this.”

“It’s ok, Akira,” Hikaru said, lying a hand on his leg. “It’s normal to be defensive. A lot has happened.”

Akira gave a distracted nod. He paused. “Hikaru, can I feel your heartbeat?”

“W-What? Why?”

“Please? Just for a minute? I’ll let you feel mine.”

“Ok… um…”

They turned to face each other and Akira put his hand out, pressing it flat against Hikaru’s chest. By then Hikaru’s heart was pounding very quickly and he prayed that it wasn’t that noticeable. For a moment neither of them breathed. Akira’s eyes flickered to Hikaru’s face. “Now you.” He withdrew his hand. When Hikaru lifted his hand nervously Akira grasped it and confidently pressed it to the center of his own chest.

Sai looked expectantly between them. Beneath his palm Hikaru felt the fluttering of Akira’s wild pulse. Hikaru looked at him in shock. So he _was_ nervous! Their eyes locked.

Akira’s hand slid away from Hikaru’s, allowing it to rest unhindered against his breast. “They feel the same to me.”

Hikaru was speechless. Akira’s eyes seemed to convey a deep yearning, but Hikaru couldn’t be sure if it was really there or if he was just imagining things. It was impossible to tell. _Sai!_ He screamed in his head. What do I do?! Alongside him, Sai threw his arms in the air and began waving them wildly in confusion.

“I don’t know!” Sai cried. “I don’t know!”

But because he felt that same yearning in his heart, maybe even stronger, Hikaru risked betting that he saw it in Akira’s eyes. Gently he moved his open hand along Akira’s chest. It glided to one side, brushing his right breast just shy of where a tender patch might be.

Hikaru desperately searched Akira’s face for a sign that he should stop but there was none. Akira seemed almost lost in the feeling. So Hikaru kept going. He slid his fingers between Akira’s arm and his side, careful not to tickle him, and began gradually down his curves until his palm rested against Akira’s waist. He took a firm hold there and leaned forward to give himself more reach. As he drew closer his hand traveled along Akira’s back until they were close enough to embrace. Akira’s face betrayed how relaxed it made him feel to be touched.

Then Akira put an arm around Hikaru, leaning into him. He dipped his head until it rested against Hikaru’s. With the last of his bravado, Hikaru put his arms around Akira’s waist and pulled their bodies flush together in a tight embrace. They melted together. Akira held Hikaru tightly around the neck and in return Hikaru returned that pressure, overflowing with love. Hikaru’s heart prickled with affection. He turned his lips to touch Akira’s cheek but Akira hid shyly from the kiss, pushing his nose into Hikaru’s hair.

Sai, his fan placed protectively over his mouth, released a sound of awe that was far too girly for a man of his age. Even though he knew he shouldn’t be watching he couldn’t help himself. He’d never seen romance between boys before.

“Hikaru,” Akira groused. “What would I do without you?”

“You’ll never have to find out, I promise,” Hikaru whispered. “I love you, Akira.”

Akira began to tremble. Hikaru knew he was about to cry; he squeezed him tightly and buried his face in his shoulder, desperately trying to hold him together, as if that might make the pain go away. Muffled sobs began to force themselves between Akira’s lips and Hikaru was overwhelmed with grief. All he wanted to do was make him better. He didn’t want him to cry anymore. A cloud of emotion pushed tears from his own eyes and they wept together, one in agony and the other in love.

“Hikaru…” Sai sniffed. It was heart wrenching and yet beautiful to witness such raw emotion.

The voice of Hikaru’s mother wafted up from downstairs beckoning them to dinner and they put a stopper on their tears. It was more difficult than it should have been to stop. Reluctantly they loosened their grip on one another but sat holding each other with limp arms, unable to let go. Their gazes drifted together.

In a suspended moment of fondness Akira lifted his thumb to gently push away Hikaru’s tears, the same way that had been done to him not a few hours before. Hikaru grinned nervously, breaking their mutual melancholy, and a smile appeared on Akira’s tear stained face.

It took them a few minutes to wipe their eyes and blow their noses. When they went down to dinner, it was very obvious that both had been crying, but Hikaru’s mother decided not to say anything. Both boys were back in decent spirits and that was enough for her.

Akira and Hikaru held hands under the table throughout the entire meal.


	13. Hosting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Romance?

When it was late, they decided it was time to give up reading and go to bed. Akira was downstairs having one last mug of tea while Hikaru took the couch cushions from the living room and wrapped them in blankets and sheets on his floor alongside the bed, making it neatly with shaking hands. He fumbled with the pillows and tripped a handful of times during the process, almost hurting himself.

“Hikaru?” Sai watched him quizzically. “What’s the matter?”

“What do you mean?” Hikaru snatched his sleeping shirt from the closet. He was struggling out of his clothes before he realized that he was shaking from head to toe. Angrily, he threw down his discarded shirt. “Gah!” He cried. “Why am I so nervous?!” When he tried to get his jeans off he got tangled in them and fell over. Lying on the floor, he yanked on his pant legs until they finally gave way, only to be tossed in the corner. Smiling, Sai saw Hikaru put his sleeping shirt on inside-out.

“Are you anxious to be sleeping with Akira…?”

“WHAT?!” Hikaru squeaked. He turned beet red. “I’m not!”

“…In the same room?” Sai finished, laughing.

“Shut up!” Hikaru snapped, itching the outside lining of his shirt that was digging into his side. “I just can’t get used to the idea of him being around! It’s the first time he’s ever been here!”

“Hikaru, you like him and he likes you. You’re under a lot of pressure to be a good host. I’m not surprised that you’re nervous.”

“I guess so.”

“Do you think maybe he’ll try something?”

“Like… what?” Hikaru asked nervously.

“You tell me,” Sai insisted. “You’re the one who’s worried.”

With a sigh, Hikaru sank down onto the make-shift bed. “I don’t know, Sai. Akira seems to need a lot of comfort right now. But how far does it go? Will he sleep through the night? Will he cry more? What if he gets sick, or can’t sleep, and I don’t know what to do?” He blushed. “What if... I don’t know. I’m just concerned.”

Sai nodded sagely. “Don’t you think,” he offered. “That after what you did for him at New Year’s you can handle anything?”

Surprised, Hikaru looked over at him. “I didn’t think of it like that.”

“Protecting someone from a rapist is much more dangerous than comforting a crying crush,” Sai explained. “You’re a very caring person. Whatever happens while Akira is here, you’ll be able to deal with it. That’s why he’s here. Because only you know how to help him.”

Both of them heard footsteps on the stairs. Thanks, Sai, Hikaru thought. If I need your help, I’ll call your name. 

“Good luck,” Sai smiled, glancing one last time at his crooked clothing. He vanished into the next room as Akira appeared in the doorway; he certainly looked tired enough to sleep through the night without a hitch.

“Hey.” Akira crossed the room as Hikaru got to his feet. “Are you sure you want to give up your bed? I feel terrible taking it from you.”

Hikaru grinned. “It’s fine! It’ll be just like a sleep over!”

Akira smiled. “Just like we’re kids again.” He picked up a clean shirt from the top of the dresser. “Hikaru, your shirt’s on inside-out.”

“WHA-!” _Sai!_ Hikaru thought furiously, tugging his shirt off.

Laughing, Akira shook his head. “You know… I only ever had one sleep over when I was young.” He pulled his sweater off and folded it neatly before working at the buttons of his shirt. “With a kid from elementary school. He moved away right after that. But anyway, my parents didn’t really like the idea. They’re kind of strict.” He eased out of his shirt and took pains to re-button it before smoothing it into folds.

“Kind of?” Hikaru stole glances at Akira’s chest as he struggled to fix his inside-out shirt. Akira had a handsome build. He was tall and thin at the waist; his shoulders were broad and pale, his nipples like twin cherry blossoms on each breast, and when he turned Hikaru followed the steep arch of his spine from his shoulder blades down to the small of his back. Hikaru tried to swallow but his throat was too dry. Stabs of lust began to gather in his groin. He tore his eyes away to avoid being caught. “I’d say your folks are really strict.”

Hikaru felt Akira’s eyes on him and he was so flustered about being shirtless that he twisted his shirt around in a different direction. He cursed desperately under his breath. Why did he have to be so awkward?

“Hikaru.” Akira tossed his clean shirt onto the bed and eased Hikaru’s shirt out of his hands. “What are you doing? It looks mangled!”

“I-I’m really tired,” Hikaru stammered.

Akira offered him a nod without comment. He began to focus on unwinding the shirt. While he worked Hikaru stared at his chest again, watching it expand and deflate with each breath. His eyes wandered down Akira’s soft middle; his belly button had a trail of dark hair that snaked down passed the band of his underwear, wispy and taunting, and it was framed by sharp hip bones. Hikaru’s imagination ran wild. He couldn’t stop thinking about what the rest of him looked like.

With his deft fingers Akira had the shirt right way in no time. He glanced up and caught Hikaru staring at him again but he felt smug when Hikaru didn’t notice. “You get clumsy when you’re tired,” Akira said casually. “Is it cold in here?”

“Hm? Why?” Hikaru followed Akira’s suggestive glance down to his own chest. Because he was turned on his nipples were as hard as diamonds. “ACK!” Hikaru yanked on the shirt and marched to the door, blushing madly. “Must be cold…” He muttered.

Akira was smiling to himself as he slipped into a clean t-shirt; it was one of Hikaru’s, since he usually slept without one. It was well worn. He liked that about it, though. It held the strong scent of Hikaru in its fabric. Then unbuttoning his trousers he stepped out of them in a few fluid motions. They were added to the pile of folded clothes and put aside. He knew instinctively that his boxer briefs had attracted Hikaru’s attention but his mind was elsewhere as he sat on the end of the bed. A shy melancholy crept into his face.

Hikaru hesitated to turn out the lights. “You ok?”

“Hm?”

“You look like you have something on your mind.”

Akira pulled back the covers, smoothing his hand along the pillow. “It’s nothing.”

“Ok. Well, I’ll turn the light off and be back.”

“All right.” Akira slid under the covers with his back to him.

Hikaru plunged the bedroom into darkness and walked into the hall, heading to the bathroom. He washed his face and spent a long time looking at himself in the mirror. Am I too skinny? He thought. I’m not broad like Akira. He’s so handsome. What would he see in me? Sighing, he went to the bathroom, letting his mind wander. When he was washing his hands Sai appeared at his shoulder.

“What is it?” Hikaru asked.

“I know you were worried about Akira,” Sai began quietly. “And I think you were right to be.”

            “What?” Hikaru whispered. “Why?”

            Sai looked towards the door. “I think Akira is feeling worse than he lets on. It’s the first night he’s not allowed to sleep in his own bed, Hikaru. How would you feel?”

            The house was dark and still. Hikaru’s mother snored softly as he passed by her room; it was pristinely clean and the comforting smell of her perfume spilled out into the hallway. He eased her door shut with a click. The floor was hard and cold against his bare feet and he was careful not to bump into the furniture against the wall as he headed for his bedroom. He pushed his door open wide. A narrow area of dim light spread from the doorway all the way to the bed. He saw the floor strewn with clothes, the small bed he’d made himself on the floor, and strangely his bed was empty. He looked again at the one on the floor. Someone was sleeping there in the dark.

Curled into a ball on the line of blanketed cushions, buried in the covers – and to all appearances, asleep, Akira had taken the bed on the floor. His sense of guilt must’ve been too strong to sleep in the real bed. Hikaru shut the door and crept around him. Sliding into the real bed, he lay on his side and pulled the covers up to his shoulder. He peered down at Akira. His face seemed peaceful in sleep but Hikaru knew otherwise. Sai was right. Tonight was going to be the most difficult part of this whole debacle.

“Why did you take the floor on the bed?” Hikaru whispered softly.

Akira’s eyes slid open slightly to return his gaze. “You should always sleep in your own bed.”

With every movement Hikaru could smell Akira in his sheets. “You’re my guest. I want you to be comfortable here.” Akira said nothing. Hikaru leaned over the edge of the bed. “Will you please switch with me?” He pressed. “Please?”

There was silence in the room as Akira gazed thoughtfully up at Hikaru from his cocoon of blankets. “Turn over,” he said at last.


	14. Budding Lust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> XXX

“What?” Hikaru whispered.

“Turn over,” Akira replied.

“Why?”

Akira sighed. “Shindou, why don’t you ever do as I ask?”

“Ok, ok! I’ll give you ‘Shindou’…” Hikaru turned over, facing the wall. He wiggled down under the covers. This part of the pillow smelled strongly of Akira’s hair so took a deep breath. “Now what?”

There was a shuffling sound but it was very slight; Hikaru waited. I’m so stupid, he thought, what if he just wanted me to turn over and go to sleep? He strained his ears for the sound of movement. In a minute he was going to get up, push Akira out of bed, and make him sleep here. It wasn’t right that he had to sleep on the floor tonight.

After everything settled he could hear Akira’s uneven breathing and wondered if he was ok. Sai had mentioned that he felt worse than he showed. Maybe he really was upset.

He finally heard Akira get up. The bed dipped down a little and Hikaru went rigid with fear. What was he doing? Too scared to move, he felt the covers lift, letting in cold air, and settle. Against his neck, wisps of warm breath curled the hairs at his nape. A body pressed against his back, flush with him, and Hikaru sucked in a sharp breath. The smell of Akira’s deodorant washed over him as hand rested on his waist.

“I’ll only sleep here if you share,” Akira whispered in his ear.  

“Akira…” Hikaru breathed. This was incredible! How many times had he had dreams like this? Hesitantly he leaned back into him, and Akira returned the pressure with his body. He wants to sleep with me, Hikaru thought in a daze. Akira is in bed with me. He was glad that his crotch was pointing towards the wall because the feeling of Akira lying against his back flooded him with warmth that he couldn’t control; it flowed freely into his groin, giving him a hard-on. He felt something subtle pressing into the small of his back. Akira was hard, too; it throbbed against him, pressing eagerly into his back. Hikaru shivered as his hard-on grew thicker and more pronounced.

Akira was trembling. Hikaru reached over and brushed his fingertips over the hand Akira had on his waist. Akira tightened his grip defensively. With gentle coaxing Hikaru parted Akira’s fingers enough for his own. Akira gradually threaded their fingers together.

“Turn over.” Akira held Hikaru’s hand crushingly tight.

Hikaru’s heart skipped a beat. “W… Why?”

“Hikaru,” he strained. “Don’t make me beg.”

The bed squeaked as Hikaru turned over. Akira tried to withdraw to a safe distance but a pair of warm hands snaked around his waist and drew him in. Their legs tangled together. Hikaru’s palms slid down to his ass with a hungry grasp and Akira gasped as he pushed their groins together. It felt much better than anything Hikaru had ever experienced before. He kissed Akira’s throat. His hips thrust forward and Akira’s responded; he seemed to melt as the bow of Hikaru’s body accompanied his own. Their cocks strained against each other through the thin material of their underwear as they sank into a languid kiss.

Akira’s hands went under Hikaru’s shirt. His fingertips found his hard nipples and began to fondle them, allowing his tongue to roll into Hikaru’s mouth. Their bodies bumped desperately in the dark. Hikaru released a muffled and desperate sound. His lips moved along Akira’s, leaving a trail from the corner of his mouth down to the collar of his shirt.

“Take it off,” Hikaru urged. Akira face flashed with panic. He pressed his hands against Hikaru’s chest and shook his head, breathless with ecstasy. It was too much. Hikaru hesitated. “Ok,” he said at last. He would wait. Then, another idea dawned on him. Reaching under his shirt to grasp Akira’s wrists Hikaru rolled on top of him and pinned his hands up over his head. Akira’s shy hesitation melted away and the ebb and flow of his body beneath him became lewd and lustful. His mouth devoured Hikaru’s sweetly, hurriedly, encouragingly.

Two points, Hikaru thought. Good idea!

The rub of their cocks was starting to burn. Hikaru hissed as he drew back his hips. “Ow…” He was still as hard as concrete and all the excitement was making him throb.

“Yeah.” This short break was enough to clear the daze from Akira’s eyes. He took a minute to catch his breath. “Hikaru, can I…?”

“Oh, sure.” Hikaru let him have his hands back.

Akira pushed his hair out of his eyes with a lustful sigh. Their chests heaved together. “Wow…” He breathed.

Hikaru saw him push down his boner impatiently. “Wait,” Hikaru murmured. He lay alongside Akira and distracted him with another kiss. It was really easy. Every time he kissed him, Akira seemed to fall into a trance. He was drawn to his lips like a magnet.

Patiently, Hikaru’s hand wandered along Akira’s flat stomach. He teased his tongue into Akira’s mouth and savored the feeling of him sucking on it. It gave him warm shivers. Hikaru’s fingers played beneath Akira’s cotton shirt; they pressed indulgently into to his flesh, lighting here and there along the trail of hair under his belly button. He had just untangled his fingers from it when he began to ease his fingertips beneath the waistband of Akira’s underwear.

Hikaru felt Akira draw a shuddered breath around his tongue. Confidently Hikaru kissed him. He wanted to do this; to feel him in his hand, to please him when he felt so needy and so hard. His hand sank beyond the waistband and twisted around to grasp it. Akira shifted his hips to guide him, but it wasn’t difficult to get a good hold. It was long and supple and fit snugly in Hikaru’s fingers. Akira released a cry when Hikaru tightened his hand around it and his whole body tensed up, trembling and expectant.

“Relax,” Hikaru coaxed.

As he moved his hand to squeeze it around the middle Akira grabbed handfuls of Hikaru’s shirt and bucked his hips, fucking desperately into his hand. Smothered moans tumbled from Akira’s lips. He teased Hikaru into another kiss as his hips got into a steady rhythm. A look of concentration took over Hikaru’s face as he matched the back and forth motion with his hand, pulling when Akira pushed and pushing when Akira pulled. Sometimes Akira pulled back really far, forcing Hikaru to squeeze the sensitive tip in order to keep a hold, and it always accompanied a loud moan from the bottom of Akira’s chest that made Hikaru’s hair stand on end.

I wanna see him come, Hikaru thought. I really, really wanna see him come.

But there wasn’t enough room in his underwear to get a good solid rhythm. Hikaru was always struggling to keep a hold against the strain of his waistband. He stopped touching Akira long enough to ease down his underwear. Panting, dizzy, Akira lay helpless as Hikaru pulled off his underwear and tossed it away. He jolted only when Hikaru closed his hand around his cock a second time. The stream of moaning took up again.

Pushing his face into Hikaru’s throat, Akira sank his teeth into it to stop himself from moaning. It released endorphins that made Hikaru’s penis throb painfully with lust. He lay pumping Akira until his muscles burned. Feeling something wet on his hand, he looked down to see clear pre-come leaking from Akira’s tip. He was almost there! Feverishly, Hikaru put an extra squeeze into his hold. Come on, he urged him silently. Let me see you come, Akira!

A tremor rocked Akira’s hips. He didn’t hold back anymore. Slamming his cock into Hikaru’s hand, Akira’s lungs filled up until his chest expanded to its full capacity. There was a millisecond of frozen time. Then white liquid shot from the tip and he finally climaxed. It was a hard orgasm, hard and fast, and Akira funneled the last of his strength into fucking it all the way until the end. He released a single awestruck groan of ecstasy before collapsing, exhausted, against Hikaru.

Hikaru didn’t let go. He rubbed the softening cock gingerly; each motion made Akira tremble with pleasure. He squeezed the tip between his fingers, then the middle, and then the base until the throb of orgasm had faded and he could no longer feel it beneath his fingertips. There was a stain on his shirt. His muscles burned. His hand had globs of mess on it, and he was still as hard as a tire iron, but he’d never felt more exhilarated.

“I love you,” Hikaru moaned, enraptured. The feeling of someone dependent on him for sex gave him a rush of testosterone. He kissed Akira’s heated cheek lovingly once, twice, three times, only stopping when his lips touched Akira’s embarrassed grin. Hikaru gazed down at him as he sluggishly recovered.

“Hikaru…” Akira groaned. He moved stiffly and unclenched his hands from Hikaru’s shirt. Then he pulled his own shirt down over his fatigued genitals. Hikaru sat up and wiggled out of his soiled shirt. He used it to clean off his hand then, gently pushing Akira’s hand aside, he mopped the last of the mess from between his legs. Every brush that was too close to Akira’s cock made him flinch. He tossed the dirty shirt in the general direction of the laundry basket.

“Chill,” Hikaru giggled. “I’m done.”

Indignant, Akira glared at him. “Give me a break - I’ll probably be sore for a week!”

Ignoring him, Hikaru lay down on his back and pulled the covers up over the both of them. He used them to hide his arm as he gave his boner a swift shove. “I think you should soil my shirts more often.”

“Definitely, but that was rough. Maybe next time we should use something to, you know…”

“Lube it up?”

“Yeah.” Stretching luxuriously like a cat, Akira spread himself across Hikaru’s bare chest. He stared sideways at his softened nipple. His fingers wandered up, toying with it until it stiffened. Everything was quiet when he spoke again. “That felt really good,” he whispered. “I like the way that you touch me. It always feels like…”

“…Like?” Hikaru held his breath.

Akira spread his hand against Hikaru’s breast. “It always feels like you care about me, you know?” He hesitated. “I can feel how much you love me.”

            Carding his fingers through Akira’s hair, Hikaru closed his eyes and smiled. “Good,” he said softly. “But I’ve been saying it all along. Haven’t I?”

            “You’re right. You have.” Akira kissed the center of Hikaru’s chest. “Thank you, Hikaru.” He took a shaky breath. “I love you.”


	15. Windup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> XXX

Akira slept heavily. When he woke he recalled a few moments during the night when he’d been startled by a dream or a movement but finding Hikaru alongside him, breathing evenly, always eased him back to sleep. Hikaru slept like the dead. It was impossible to disturb him. It was a good thing too, because if he didn’t sleep so soundly, Akira jolting awake in the night might’ve woken him.

For a long time after Akira had woken up he stared listlessly at the ceiling. He felt… better. Much better. He couldn’t dredge up any feelings of sadness or depression. His heart felt weightless, drifting on the breeze as delicately as a balloon, tethered to earth only by Hikaru’s kindness. He smiled. Hikaru. The thoughts that had haunted him for the past few days seemed so small and far away. In his heart, he knew that there was a lot of hardship ahead, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel dread. He knew that he could handle it.

His eyes slid sideways to rest on Hikaru’s sleeping face. It was all because of him. Reaching over, he touched the hand Hikaru had slung over his chest and mingled their fingers together, rubbing the back of his hand with his thumb. What would things have been like without Hikaru there for him to lean on? Would he feel this way now? Definitely not. Hikaru was the sole reason that Akira had accepted himself enough to relax his personal barriers. Letting himself be touched last night had been a big step. He’d succumbed to his desires, and released the tension built up in his body that had been growing, ignored, for years. It felt like a great weight had been lifted off his chest. He could finally relax. He could finally breathe.

Hikaru’s hand tightened around his own. Akira watched his chest shudder and expand as he sucked in a great deal of breath before expelling it in a sigh. His eyes traveled up the softly undulating flesh until they caressed his throat, thrown back in sleep, and eventually his flushed cheek, landing finally on his eyes. Hikaru gazed out at him from beneath heavy lids. Leaning towards him, Akira parted his lips for a kiss and Hikaru’s mouth met him halfway. They lay slowly tasting each other’s tongues. Hikaru’s hand ran along Akira’s back and down his bare ass, caressing his lean thighs. Akira felt Hikaru’s heart thudding at the touch.

“Will your mom be mad that we slept together?” Akira murmured.

Hikaru smirked. “She won’t even know.” He kissed Akira’s cheek, resting his nose there. “Her job is across town, so she leaves very early. She’ll be gone all day.”

“Oh?” Akira looked at him coyly. “So we can stay in bed all day?”

“A-Ah? I mean, sure, if you want.”

Akira wrapped his arms around Hikaru’s neck and laid on top of him. “I do,” he smiled, pushing his knee between Hikaru’s legs. He felt a warm resistance from his groin and kissed Hikaru’s neck. “I seem to remember you being very eager last night.”

Arching against him, Hikaru ran his hands under Akira’s shirt, rubbing his back. “Yeah?” He replied with surprise. “I suppose I was.”

“And… I remember you not getting off.”

“Oh!” Hikaru stared at him. His face turned red. “Oh.”

Akira nodded. “What do you think? What do you want me to do?”

“I-I… I, uh…”

“Come on, you’ve liked me a long time. I know you have ideas.”

Hikaru made a sound of awkward hesitation. “I don’t want to ask for anything, Akira.” He looked away guiltily. “It’d be a lot of pressure.”

“This is sort of new for both of us, so I don’t know what to do,” Akira explained. Still, Hikaru hesitated. He was too afraid of taking advantage of him, Akira knew. It was incredible sweet of him. Still, they were at an impasse. He felt Hikaru’s hard on throb against his thigh and the wheels in his head began to turn. “What if…” He began slowly. “I used… my mouth?”

Hikaru’s face transformed into a mask of shock. “You’d do that?”

“Only if you want it,” Akira answered suggestively. They sank into another kiss. Akira was running through how it might go in his head if he did use his mouth, and he knew Hikaru was doing the same, but something else occurred to him. He broke the kiss, distracted, and Hikaru looked at him oddly.

“What’s wrong?”

Akira didn’t look at him. “I could use my mouth, and then…” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Then we could have sex.”

Hikaru was struck speechless. His lips parted in surprise. “H… How?” He managed.

“We could use my spit as lubricant… and you could put it… you know…” Akira blushed, feeling very self-conscious with Hikaru staring at him like a dolt. “When I was in the hotel, I used their computer to watch some videos on the internet about boys doing things. I really liked them. I know what to do, but…” He lost a little confidence in himself. “Would it be ok?”

Hikaru sat up quickly. “Of course!” He blurted. “I want to. I really want to.”

Akira sighed with relief. “Ok. I was a little worried that you’d be mad, or scared.”

“What? Why?” Hikaru touched Akira’s cheek. “I’ve always wanted to be with you like that. It’s really weird hearing you say that you want to have sex. I mean…” He studied his face. “It’s just that… last night was the first thing we did. Do you want to do this already?”

Nodding, Akira looked down at Hikaru’s bare chest. It was so embarrassing to admit to having sex dreams, even to Hikaru. “I can see why it seems sudden, but… I’ve been having really strong dreams about it. Dreams about you and me, I mean.”

“You have?” Hikaru looked pleased. “How many?”

“A few. Mostly when I was in the hotel.”

“Some at home?”

“A while ago, yeah…” Akira blushed. “My first one was a month ago. I even… I even came in my sleep. Although, back then it really freaked me out.”

Groaning, Hikaru grabbed him tightly. “That’s so sexy!”

A grin broke Akira’s shy expression. “Does it seem less strange now?”

“Yeah. I can’t believe you’ve been having sex dreams. Are you really ready to do it?”

“Yes.”

“Wow. Ok,” Hikaru nodded. “If that’s what you want, I want it, too.” He kissed him once, gently. “I don’t know much about things between boys, so you’ll have to tell me what to do, ok?”

“Ok. I will.” Akira put his hands on Hikaru’s chest and pushed him down. “Now lay back.”

Chuckling nervously, Hikaru laced his hands behind his head and shut his eyes tight. He gulped. “Go easy on me.”

“Definitely not.”

“Christ… Akira…”

Putting his hands on Hikaru’s waist, Akira trailed his lips along his throat, dragging his tongue across his nipples and stomach. It encouraged him to feel Hikaru trembling beneath him. He sank his teeth into his pelvis and left a dark mark, feeling Hikaru’s cock throb against his chest. He was still wearing boxers so Akira palmed his groin to get a feel for how big it was. Warm balls settled in his palm and his cock, not all the way hard, pushed against his touch. Akira was silently shocked. Even half-hard, Hikaru was bigger than he thought he’d be.

Akira used his fingers to open the fly of Hikaru’s boxers. He eased the edges around his cock and balls, giving him a clear shot at both. Hikaru had soft, red genitals, nicely shaped. They looked ready for him. To his surprise Akira found his mouth watering. This was something he’d wanted to try ever since he saw that video. To do it to Hikaru, who he knew was going to squirm, made him roil with excitement.

He held the base of the boner with two fingers. Here it goes, Akira thought, exhilarated. His eyes slid shut. He opened his mouth over the head and ran his tongue along it slowly but firmly. The taste was musky and salty, but not bad. Hikaru let out a strangled gasp. The cock throbbed in Akira’s fingers. Smug, Akira licked it again, wrapping his tongue around the side this time. Hikaru was definitely squirming. Akira sank the head into his mouth, tonguing the tip, and he had to hold Hikaru’s hips down to prevent him from bucking as he got a feel for the way that it fit in his mouth. He liked the texture. It was soft but resistant. Finally, he pushed all of it in his mouth, sucking tightly until it fit safely between his lips and his tongue.  

He let go of Hikaru’s hips and they did the rest. If he focused on slicking the cock with his spit, Akira could let Hikaru’s frenzied thrusting do most of the work. It was really making him horny. Hikaru tasted like sex, and he was moaning loudly, his fingers sinking into Akira’s head to push it down further. His cock grew to its full length. It touched the back of Akira’s throat as he allowed Hikaru to shove him down deeper. His lips were tickled by the small dark hairs curling around the base of his cock, and he felt like he was swallowing a huge cucumber, but it tasted so good and he was so horny that he felt like he was starving for more. He tightened his mouth around Hikaru and made him cry out with pleasure.

Then, gently, Akira pulled Hikaru’s hand off his head. He pushed down on his hips and let the cock slide out of his mouth, thickly coated in saliva. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and struggled to catch his breath. Beneath him, Hikaru was a flushed, throbbing, trembling mess.

Akira smirked. “Are you ready?”


	16. The Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> View discretion is advised.

Hikaru felt his cock dripping and thoroughly teased but he couldn’t think straight. He could only look at Akira’s seductive smile. He swallowed hard. He’d never been with anyone else before, not ever, and he didn’t know how well he was going to do. Carefully, he sat up. Akira lay down beneath him without breaking eye contact. He was alive with color and desire unlike anything Hikaru had seen to date. Even last night when he was getting off he’d been shy, hiding his face or clinging to Hikaru. Now he seemed like a different Akira; maybe he’d just needed someone to show him how to relax his guard.

Akira had still kept his shirt on even after last night. It was a shame. Hikaru really wanted to see all of him naked, but he’d never say it. He didn’t want Akira to feel ashamed that he needed to wear it to feel safe.

The way Akira shifted his hips to get them straight reminded Hikaru of why they’d switched positions. His cock throbbed. Show time. Hikaru leaned down and kissed Akira once, lingering sweetly, and when he pulled back Akira’s sharp eyes had softened. It was good that they don’t forget why they were doing this. Hikaru was in love with Akira, and Akira finally had someone he could trust with his darkest urges. Akira’s legs parted. Hikaru, his eyes drawn to what lay between, felt his heart throb at the sight of Akira’s half-hard cock. God, he loved him. All of him was so supple and handsome.

Hikaru also spotted the hole he was supposed to be going into and felt a stab of panic. It looked much smaller than he’d imagined. He glanced at Akira, who seemed to be wavering between anxiety and rapture.

“Use your fingers first,” Akira said. “One at a time.”

One at a time? Hikaru looked at his hand. No lubricant. He had just opened his mouth to point this out when Akira took the offered hand, sinking two fingers into his mouth. Hikaru’s jaw dropped. He felt Akira’s tongue rolling around his fingers just like he’d rolled it around his cock and his doubts evaporated. Pushing them deeper into Akira’s mouth, Hikaru pressed his fingers into his tongue, mimicking the way he’d pushed his cock down his throat. Akira took it eagerly. He, too, seemed nervous to begin. His slow easy sucking distracted Hikaru a little but there was a more pressing matter. The saliva on his member wouldn’t stay slick forever.

Hikaru withdrew his fingers, dragging with him the dripping saliva. He shuddered with dirty thoughts. If he could come in that mouth only once, he’d never ask for another favor in his life. He leaned to one side and used one finger to feel out the hole. Akira flinched a little in surprise but his cock twitched with excitement.

“Relax,” Hikaru pressed. “It’s too tight.”

Akira released a deep breath. “Sorry.”

Hikaru felt his muscles relax. He lifted Akira’s leg to rest on his shoulder to give himself a better angle, and gently eased his finger into the hole. Akira released a small moan. At first there was strong resistance but gradually the body relaxed around him and even pushed against his touch, almost as if it were eager to have him inside. Hikaru firmly pumped his finger in and out, watching Akira’s face unravel from its composure. Akira strained to open his legs a little wider. His finger was hard against Akira’s soft and undulating insides. Pushing it deeper inside, Hikaru shut out everything except Akira as he saw him become dizzy with lust.

“Deeper,” Akira pleaded. “Deeper!”

Hikaru pushed harder against the tender insides that threatened to swallow his finger and the cry of pleasure that spilled from Akira’s lips was sharper and more pronounced than the rest had been. He slid in his second finger without any more precedent. Akira’s cries became much more demanding; his body was pulsating around Hikaru’s touch, desperate for more, and he teased Akira by curling his fingers tightly and hitting all the right spots inside of him.

Akira lay prostrate on the bed with his legs sprawled open, one hand gripping the pillow above his head and the other clinging to Hikaru’s shoulder for dear life. He heaved against Hikaru’s fingers with a long hip thrust. Bursts of desire filled Hikaru’s heart. Withdrawing his fingers, he waited until Akira had caught his breath to poise over him, ready for the main event.

Panting, Akira nodded. “Do same thing,” he said. “It’s ready.”

Hikaru took a deep breath and eased in the tip of his cock. It was so tight and hot, and his cock was slick with saliva, but he felt like it was going to be too big. The hole had stretched to accommodate the fingers after they became familiar as a source of pleasure, but his cock was a foreign object. Akira pushed against it. He wanted so badly to be fucked that his body managed to ease open just enough to let Hikaru in.

 Hikaru gasped at how tight it was. He was being squeezed from every side like Akira had clamped down to try and milk his cock as hard as he could, when in reality that was just all the space he was going to get. But the sensation alone was enough to make him dizzy. God, it felt amazing to be inside him! Hikaru groaned lewdly as he pumped himself deeper inside of Akira. It felt so much better than he’d dreamed about. Nothing could compare to two bodies opening up for one other and using their most delicate equipment to fuck like mindless beasts.

Beneath him, Akira was writhing with pleasure. He was emboldened by their solitude and allowed his moans to be deafening and hit incredibly high pitches. Thrusting desperately against Hikaru’s rhythm, Akira went through cycles of pushing against his cock and drawing it in again, wildly trying to suck out every drop of ecstasy humanly possible. He was senseless with desire.

Hikaru put both of Akira’s legs on his shoulders and sat up, lifting Akira with him as he continued to fuck him at a downward angle. The sound was slick and their bodies clapped together as Hikaru shoved himself in up to the hilt over and over. This was too tight, it felt too good - he was going to come in minutes, but he had to try to last as long as he could for Akira. Hikaru bit his lip and fucked. Every time he went in up to the hilt and the tip of his cock hit a bend in the wall, Akira thrashed as if Hikaru had pressed a button deep inside of him. Hikaru aimed for that same spot every time he got in that deep.

Akira’s body was slowly tensing more and more, the walls around Hikaru’s cock closing in tighter and tighter. He was about to climax again - Hikaru knew that hard desperation anywhere - but was Akira about to climax from having someone fuck him in the ass? Or was he going to come because of the rub his cock was getting against Hikaru’s pelvis? He felt Akira thrash again when he hit that spot and knew that he’d been stupid to even think about it. Akira was going to climax because Hikaru was hitting a G-spot in his ass. There was no other explanation.

The moaning spilling from Akira’s lips became haggard in nature. He was now prone to long silences where he held his breath and just pushed against Hikaru’s cock, fucking him with all his strength. As he finished another round of frantic moans one of those silences overtook him. Hikaru fucked against him as hard as he could but Akira was too strong for him to fight. He found himself being fucked instead of the other way around. It was hard and fast and Hikaru was seconds from having his cock explode when Akira’s whole body seemed to freeze in limbo for a millisecond. Then, just as suddenly, he released a peal of moaning that topped every moan yet and began to buck so wildly that Hikaru had to hang on for dear life. Hikaru smashed his cock into Akira over and over until he couldn’t take it anymore. He came hard, blowing his load all over Akira’s insides and fucking into it with the last of his energy.  

Slowly, their fucking came to an end. Both were exhausted. Akira went slack, his legs falling open and his arms collapsing at his sides, and Hikaru sank down on top of him in a heap. They lay panting until the last throb of their orgasms faded away. Akira, dragging his arms up, wrapped them around Hikaru protectively. His shirt had ridden up during their chaotic dance and now their chests swelled together, nipples brushing.

Hikaru silently commended himself. He’d experienced the maximum amount of pleasure and given Akira the maximum amount of pleasure in return. What luck for his first time! “We should definitely do that more often,” he gasped.

In reply, Akira only groaned pleasurably, tensing his body and rolling it against Hikaru to release the last of his built-up pressure. He seemed to be clenching the cock still inside him. He didn’t want to let it go. Hikaru took a shaky breath; it was too tight and he was too soft to stand how tight it was inside him. As gingerly as he could, he slid his cock out, the last bit of pleasure exploding in his sensitive organ. He pressed his face into Akira’s chest and collapsed.

“Hikaru.” Akira carded his fingers affectionately through Hikaru’s hair. “I love you.”

With a great amount of effort Hikaru raised his head to look at him. “Do you mean it?” He asked quietly.

“I mean it,” Akira declared. “I meant it last night, and I mean it now.”

Hikaru gave him an even look. “Then why do you only say it when you come?”

A flash of guilt rippled across Akira’s face. He looked away shyly. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean it to be that way.”

“What _do_ you mean, then?”

“I mean… it’s harder for me. You can say it so easily. You’re so confident in yourself.”

“So are you!”

“Not when it comes to this!” Akira protested. “I have all these emotions but it’s so hard to get them into words! I can never find the right time to say it!” He rubbed his face. “I’m sorry. I should be better at this.”

“Say it again.”

Akira stared at him. “What?”

“Say it again,” Hikaru repeated patiently. “And look at me this time. Show me you mean it.”

Tears pricked Akira’s eyes. Clearly he was struggling with some inner turmoil. What, Hikaru wondered, was so hard about the truth? Taking a deep breath, Akira looked him in the eye. “I love you, Hikaru,” he quaked.

Hikaru wrapped his arms around Akira and kissed him passionately. They embraced, tangling their bodies together, and Akira seemed to overflow with relief and warmth. He buried his face in Hikaru’s shoulder and felt Hikaru’s lips smile against his ear.

“Say it again,” Hikaru whispered.


	17. Foreboding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira plays against an 8 dan; a storm brews.

Akira dressed patiently. His cuffs were straight and his pants were pressed; when he looked in the mirror to tie his tie he felt relaxed, comfortable. He had a public game in the room of deep contemplation that was supposed to measure how far he’d come since becoming a 5 dan. It was against Kurata. Akira wasn’t overly concerned about the match itself because Kurata was not as strong as he was; even respecting the man for his rank didn’t change what Akira had seen from watching him play. He’d probably win if he could focus.

What he was worried about was the publicity he’d gotten by being banished from his family home a week ago. It had been all over Daily GO, as well as the actual news. He was a big figure in GO. His father hadn’t released a statement and avidly turned away reporters but someone must’ve seen or heard something. Akira felt his heart knocking against his ribs as he studied himself in the mirror. Am I ready? He wondered. If they ask, what will I say?

His time at Hikaru’s house had healed him. Akira felt like he’d finally gotten back into the swing of things. He was well rested, well fed, and well worked. Hikaru’s mother insisted that he not clean while he lived there but when Hikaru slept in Akira would quietly do his chores for him. After all, he was the one mooching off their hospitality. Between the cleaning and the rest, which Akira always got with Hikaru close by, Akira felt personally refreshed. He was finally at peace with himself. Now, all he needed to do was to make peace with his family.

“Akira?” Hikaru appeared at the bathroom door like an apparition.

Akira flinched. Turning, he gave Hikaru a shy smile. “You spooked me. Yes?”

Hikaru looked at him with stars in his eyes. He was doing that more often lately. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to. You look great! Are you almost ready, ‘cause your cab’s here?”

“Oh! Thank you, I am.” Fumbling with his tie, he gratefully took his coat from Hikaru.

“Wallet?”

“Check.”

“Phone?”

“Check.”

Hikaru walked with him to the door. They lingered on the threshold, glancing about for Hikaru’s mother. She was doing the dishes in the kitchen so they drew together briefly touching lips. They exchanged a lingering look before Akira slid into his shoes.

Akira tucked his hair behind his ear. “See you at five?”

“I’ll be here.” Hikaru gave Akira the thumbs up. “Knock ‘em dead.”

Opening the door, Akira shot him a smile. “Thanks.” He slid outside and shut the door behind him with care. His eyes were drawn to the sky as he glided down the pathway to the cab waiting out front. It looked like it might rain. Oh, well. He didn’t need an umbrella if he was taking a cab. The ride was short but necessary. If anyone saw him walking from Hikaru’s place they would have reporters staked outside all day. Every time they drove passed a news van, Akira hid his face by looking out the other window. His mind was reeling when they pulled up to the building.

“T-Thanks.” Akira paid the cabbie and slid into the light drizzle. He walked under the shelter of the doorway before looking back. Thunder rumbled in the distance. “I hope it’s not a big storm,” he said under his breath. “I’m nervous enough.”

On his way in, he spotted reporters huddling by the elevator. He passed through them with a blank expression on his face as if his mind were elsewhere and pressed the elevator button. Internally he was begging the elevator to hurry.

“Touya!” One of them said, and the others were on alert with their microphones and cameras rolling. “You’re always early! What changed today? Your match is in ten minutes!”

Akira acted as if he just heard him. “Hm? Oh, I overslept,” he said with a smile.

The man had deep dark hair and narrow grey eyes. He didn’t look convinced. He pushed the mic in closer. “You’re not living at home anymore, right? Is your new place closer to here?”

“Not really,” Akira shrugged, refusing to offer more information.

“Who are you living with, Touya? You’re not living alone at this age, are you?” A woman pressed.

Akira’s heart skipped a beat. “I’m not sure it would be a problem for someone in my position.”

The woman’s eyes glittered. “What position is that?” Her mic almost brushed the lapel of his jacket.

Akira pushed it gently away with an air of ease. “In the position of a pro, of course.” Ding! The elevator doors slid open and Akira stepped fluidly inside. “Have a nice day,” he offered politely.

“What about your parents, Touya?” The man cried. “What do they say?”

The elevator doors were painfully slow to close. It was idling, waiting for more passengers, but Akira couldn’t press the close door button under such close scrutiny. He began to panic. “It was their idea.” He bit his tongue. Shit. He hadn’t meant to tell the truth.

The man lit up like a Christmas tree. “Why?”

Akira managed a shy look. “Why don’t you ask them?”

The doors clanged shut. Akira leaned his forehead against the cold doors, his pulse racing and the world reeling around him. He ran through everything he‘d just said in his mind. So far it looked ok. He might not have avoided everything well, but at least they thought he was living alone now. Even if he had implied that his parents wanted him to move out.

The elevator doors slid open and he was on the right floor. Composing himself, Akira drew to mind his opponent and his eyes sharpened. Time to focus. He had a game to play. The halls were empty as he marched to the room of deep contemplation but once he let himself in there were several people present. Kurata Atsushi, a special reporter, and several official members of the league who were going to preside over the match. He greeted them all politely. His eyes flickered to the GO board in the center of the room.

Kurata, looking annoyed, sat on one side of the board with his arms crossed over his chest. His great form was always the same. He eyed Akira suspiciously as he folded his coat and took his seat. “Nothing to drink?” Kurata piped up.

Akira glanced up in surprise. He always accepted the tea offered at the matches, although he never drank during the game, only before. There was none today. “I don’t think I’ll be needing any,” he said. The rain will see to that, he thought sheepishly.

The match was a complex one. Although Kurata wasn’t as strong as Akira, he’d been adapting to different styles and tried all of them on Akira. None succeeded. Kurata grew less and less confident as Akira took his territory without mercy. Soon his hand froze over the board and a white stone balancing precariously between his fingers began to tremble. Akira watched him closely. His face flashed through several intense emotions before settling on defeat. Clearly, he’d expected to win today. That had been his first mistake. The long list of others need not be mentioned in the face of failure.

“I resign,” Kurata said quietly, bowing his head.

“Thank you for the game,” Akira replied evenly.

A 5 dan had just defeated an 8 dan. Since the beginning of his career Akira hadn’t accomplished anything nearly as astonishing as this. Even after his personal life had gone through the shredder he was as sharp as he always was. The committee around them was shocked into silence. Akira began to clean the board on his own, counting stones. He’d won by almost 5 moku. Kurata was pretty tough. But his hap-hazard playing hadn’t phased Akira in the least; he knew a dying breath when he saw one. He usually went easier on other players, especially when they were so afraid of losing, but he was tired of not being taken seriously by the likes of Kurata. He’d thought himself invincible to Akira’s reach. This illusion had proven to be false.

Outside, lightning split the sky and thunder shook the building to its core, making Akira jump. He dropped the top to the GO pieces and it rolled away. A committee member, also shocked by the noise, politely got up to hand it back. Akira replaced it with trembling hands. His nerves were worse than before even though he’d won the match. Why? Why was he haunted by this feeling of dread?

“Who do you think you are?” Kurata hissed.

Akira looked up quickly. Innocence mixed with wariness in his eyes. “Excuse me?”

Kurata motioned to the board. “This. You didn’t respond to any of these moves. None of them.”

“I didn’t-”

“And here!” Kurata cut him off, pointing accusingly at a particularly cruel move on Akira’s part. “Your play was violent – concise!”

Akira watched him with an unreadable stare. “You have something against my play?”

Red-faced, Kurata scowled at him. “Yes!”

“By all means,” Akira said coolly. “Please, share your critical thoughts.”

Again Kurata pointed his thick finger at different territories. “Here, I played against your position, but you didn’t respond in the least. You moved to slaughter the center.” His agitation faded. Looking at Akira, Kurata’s eyes narrowed into a glare. “This play is emotionless and tactless.”

Akira motioned to the other people present. “Please. You all witnessed the same game. Do you hold the same opinion as Kurata?”

Most of them were silent. The transcriber looked up from her neatly documented booklet and met his questioning gaze hesitantly. “I think you played elegantly, Touya,” she admitted.

“Thank you, Ms.…?”

“Iwazaki,” she replied.

“Ms. Iwazaki. Thank you for your opinion. Anyone else?” The rest of the room remained silent. Mostly Kurata fans, then. Probably too addled by Kurata’s poor play to comment. Akira turned to his smoldering opponent. After a moment of contemplation he decided to humor him and offered to point out one of his radically bad moves. “Here, Kurata,” Akira motioned. “You tried to slap my stones away with a cheap feint that only served to weaken your defenses in this area. This mistake was repeated in several less damaging places as well.”

“Excuse you?” Kurata snapped.

Akira was a mask of calm. “After the first time you carried out this move, I realized that this play here was the correct counter. Although I did hope you’d stop using the same move in different guises, I didn’t ignore your moves. I simply cut them short.” He stared him down. “Drawing them out would have only prolonged your loss and wasted our time.”

Struck into silence, Kurata stared wide-eyed at Akira as he rose and draped his jacket over his arm. After two hours of this nonsense Akira’s temper had grown short. He politely excused himself. On the way out he called himself a ride back to Hikaru’s. The reporters threw more questions at him as soon as he stepped out of the elevator but he couldn’t think straight anymore. He waved them off impatiently as he stepped into the pouring rain.

His eyes were drawn to the darkening sky. Deep in his chest his heart fluttered like a bird to the patter of the fat rain droplets pelting his shoulders. His jacket hung uselessly on his arm, getting soaked. Someone snapped a picture from the door. Just as the cab turned the corner, Akira felt his phone ringing wildly in his pocket.


	18. Support

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira finds more kindness than he expected.

 

Akira’s mother called him to say that his father was in the hospital after having been hit by his second heart attack. Her weeping broke his heart. “I’m on my way, mom,” Akira said as he shut the cab door. “Don’t worry. I’ll be there soon.” He snapped the phone shut. Quickly, he reopened it and dialed Hikaru with shaking fingers. The storm raged around the cab as it soared through the foggy streets to the central hospital. Akira cradled the phone to his cheek.

“Akira, hey! What’s wrong?” Hikaru answered with his mouth full.

“My dad… hospital…” Akira’s hand was shaking too badly to hold the phone. “I’ll be home later, I…” The phone tumbled into his lap. He scrambled to catch it before it fell and accidentally snapped it shut. He cursed. The phone vibrated violently as Hikaru tried to call him back but his fingers couldn’t work the phone open again. He stared down emptily at it until the call ended.

All he could see was his father lying in a casket half buried under flowers. Akira’s heart was flooded with grief. He hadn’t even had the chance to make up with him. Please, he prayed desperately. Please let him live!

He paid the cabbie too much and slipped as he stepped out into the storm. The cab driver was still yelling about his change as he ran into the hospital. He slid into the front desk on a puddle, but managed to catch himself before he fell. “Touya,” he blurted. “Kouya Touya!”

“Are you his son?” The nurse asked, eyeing him.

“Yes! I’m Akira!”

“Third floor, room six.”

Soaking wet, flustered, and in a panic, Akira bolted to the elevator. It closed just before he got there and he stared at it in disbelief. Third floor, third floor… He turned to the entrance to the stairs and burst through the doors. His shoes pounded the steps and his phone vibrated in his wet pocket again. Hikaru. Akira couldn’t pull enough sense together to answer it. He flung himself through the doors of the third floor, scaring the nearby male nurse.

Akira stumbled down the hall blindly. Someone asked who he was but he just kept going. Numbers blurred together. His head was spinning. Pushing his damp hair out of his eyes, Akira finally found it. Room six. He froze in place. What if his father was dead? Was he too late to make amends? If he was alive, did he even want to see him? He trembled from head to toe.

The female nurse who’d asked him his name took him by the shoulder. Luckily she seemed to recognize him from TV and had followed him here. She steered him into his father’s room and called out to his mother for him. Slender, pale, with dark hair like Akira’s, Mrs. Touya appeared from around the corner. Her stark worry alarmed Akira. Wait, she was saying something. What was it? Akira stared at her but he couldn’t hear the words falling from her lips. She looked more concerned about how soaked he was than the condition of his father. He couldn’t reply to her. He took one step inside, then another, and his eyes found the cot with his father on it around the corner. His heart heaved.

Akira’s father was hooked to a few machines and he looked very pale, but he was sitting up in bed looking more annoyed than hurt. His eyes bore through his bedraggled son. “Dad,” Akira quaked. The sound of his own voice was foreign. It was the voice of a child. “I thought… I mean…”

He met his father’s heavy gaze but got nothing in reply. Behind him, his mother drew him back around the corner by the arm, using a handkerchief to wipe his face clean. Finally her words got through to him. “He just woke up, he’s not ready to see you,” she whispered anxiously. “I’m sorry I worried you so badly. The doctor’s didn’t sound confident in his condition, so…”

“Mother. Mom.” Akira stared at her. “You’re not…?”

“Not what?” She asked, bewildered.

Akira took a deep breath and released it. He’d forgotten. It was just father who was angry with him. “Nothing, I forgot myself in my haste,” he explained.

“Understandably.” His mother motioned to his wet jacket. “Did you forget how to use that?”

“I…” Akira cracked a cynical grin. “Yeah. I did. Sorry, mother.” He longed to embrace her but looked down at himself and realized that he was dripping wet. “I don’t know what came over me.”

Pulling him out of the room, his mother shut the door behind them and sighed, looking at her handsome son warmly. “I’ve missed you, Akira.”

Kissing her warm cheek with his cold lips, Akira managed a smile. “I miss you too, mother.” His expression stiffened. “Did father become this way because he was angry? Is this… because of me?” He got no reply, but the thin press of his mother’s lips told him all he needed to know. Her kind eyes pleaded with him to not blame himself. Still, he crumpled. Akira leaned against the wall heavily and covered his face with his hands. “It’s my fault,” he whispered. “I can’t believe it…”

His mother pushed his bangs off his forehead and her warm palm settled against his chilled skin. “Akira,” she soothed. “You were right to tell us the truth.”

“But look at what it’s done!” Akira cried.

“You should always tell your parents the truth,” his mother scolded. “Your father’s anger is not your fault. He’s just taking this very personally. You know how he is, Akira. Every time you lose a match he broods for a week – did you expect him to be happy about this?” She caught his eye. “We only want what’s best for you; the path you’ve chosen is difficult and filled with strife. Both of us know that. Your father is just afraid for you. His anger shows his desperation to change your mind.” She smiled eye. “You’re a brave son, standing up to him about the way you feel. You’ve really become quite a young man.”

Wearily, Akira searched her eyes for a lie and found none. He felt guilty for thinking that she’d lie to make him feel better. “Thank you, mother.” He sighed.

Her hand slid away. “Stay here a minute. Let me speak with him.”

Before he could protest, she vanished through the door. He sank down onto a bench. What would he say? Would he turn him away again? Akira dropped his head into his hands. He loved his father so much. Why did this have to happen? He felt a stab of pain. Why did he have to be this way? Grief filled his heart.

For half an hour, he heard nothing from inside the hospital room. For half an hour, he sat with his head in his hands forcing himself not to weep. It was a losing battle. Just as he was about to get up and leave, he heard the sound of pounding footsteps.

“Akira!” Akira lifted his head to see Hikaru sprinting down the hall towards him. An umbrella dangled from his arm and he was barely touched by the weather. Only his hair was windblown. He sat beside Akira, putting his hand on his leg. “You’re soaked! What happened? Is he ok?” He pressed.

“Hikaru.” Akira grabbed his hand. “I’m sorry. I dropped the phone, and I couldn’t pick it back up, I-”

“It’s ok!” Hikaru wiggled out of his jacket. “Akira. Your father. Is he alright?”

Nodding, Akira looked at his lap. “He’s alright.”

Hikaru heaved a sigh of relief. “I was so worried. What about you? Why are you all wet?” He helped Akira out of his wet blazer and shirt, peeling them off his slender body. Gently he touched his shoulder. “You’re freezing!” Hikaru cried.

“It was storming… I…” Akira shivered against the cold hospital air. He eagerly slipped his arms into Hikaru’s jacket and zipped it up, hugging himself to warm up. “I went to catch a cab and just stepped into the rain, but I was so thrown when mom called me that I sorta lost it.” He glanced at Hikaru. “Thank you. I was worried, and stupid; I’ll probably catch a cold because I didn’t bring an umbrella with me.”

An arm slipped around Akira’s shoulders. “You’ve been through a lot. It’s normal to feel weird and act weird, especially when you get news that your father is hurt. I would have done the same thing.”

“Yeah?” Akira smiled.

They both watched the nurse walk around the corner and listened to the click of her heels fading away. Then Hikaru hugged Akira tightly, pressing a kiss to his temple, and Akira turned to catch his mouth. Their lips met eagerly. For a minute they forgot where they were. The comfort of their love seemed to knit the ragged situation back together and when they drew back Akira felt much calmer. He leaned into Hikaru.

“Mother is talking to him for me.” Akira looked away. “It’s been a long time since she went in.”

“He’ll want to see you.”

“What? Why?”

“Akira, he had another heart attack. He had to have been just as scared as you were that you’d never get to make up.”

Akira pictured his father prostrate on the ground thrashing in agony as he flashed through the past few weeks; their house empty, Akira’s GO board untouched, his extra school uniform gathering dust in the closet. How lonely it must’ve been for him to suddenly not have his only child. How terrible he must’ve felt in that moment, so close to death, when he realized what he’d done. “You’re right. Of course you are.” Akira rubbed his eyes. “Hikaru, I don’t know what I’d do if I lost my father. Whether he’ll speak to me or not I would be totally lost without him.”

“He knows,” Hikaru said quietly. “He’s a father. Of course he knows. He’s probably lost without you, too. He spent your entire life pruning you for success. Imagine how you’d feel if you were him.”

 “My only child choosing to be persecuted for the rest of his life? I’d be crushed,” Akira whispered.

The door slid open. Mrs. Touya appeared in the hallway. “He’s ready for you,” she said eagerly.


	19. Mending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Master Touya reveals the truth.

Hikaru squeezed Akira’s hand and released him. Akira, glancing between them, rose to his feet. “Thank you. Both of you.” He embraced his mother tightly, surprising her. She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him in return, kissing his wet hair.

“We love you, Akira,” she sniffed.

“I love you too. So much.” Akira released her reluctantly.

He left them in the hall, shutting himself into the hospital room. He took two confident steps inside and stood in the same spot he’d been standing in earlier so weak with emotion that he’d sounded like a child. This time when he met his father’s eyes he was stout of heart.

“Father,” Akira said, bowing.

Master Touya motioned to a chair near the bed with his arm; it was threaded with tubes and wires. “Take a seat.”

Akira sat obediently. He looked into his father’s face expectantly. “I apologize for my earlier intrusion. The call I received put me in a state of panic, I was-”

“Akira,” his father snapped.

Falling silent, Akira paled. Had he said something wrong already?

“You don’t need to explain yourself. I, too, thought that I was going to die a few hours ago. There is no need to apologize.” There was no more anger in his father’s eyes. His voice was thick but he seemed alive with purpose. There was something changed about him.

Akira’s heart soared. “I’m so glad you’re alright,” he managed, emotion making his voice waver. “I never meant for this. I never wanted it.”

“I know, Akira. I know my own son.” Heaving a sigh, Master Touya studied him. “That jacket is Shindou’s, I assume? He’s here?”

Akira glanced down at the outlandish black and orange jacket he was bundled in. “Yes. He came here to support me.”

Nodding, his father lowered his eyes. For a long time neither of them spoke. Akira got the creeping feeling that something was about to happen. Suddenly, his father looked up at him, catching him off guard. “Akira,” he began. “Recent events have made me realize how short my time here on earth has become.”

“No,” Akira whispered. “Father…?”

“Listen to me, son. Our years as a family have definitely been the best years of my life.” Master Touya took a deep breath. “Before I met your mother, my life was a cold and lonely place. All I thought about was GO. My parents, unlike yours, thought very little of my talent and strove to change my path at every bend in the road. I became distant. My studies suffered. My future was hazy, often dark, and my heart became a lifeless stone.”

 His words struck Akira. They sounded like the words of a dying man.

“Your mother brought me back to life,” Master Touya continued solemnly. “Her kindness reminded me that there were reasons yet to love this life. When she gave birth to you it was my proudest moment, but watching you blossom into the man you are today has truly been my greatest experience.” Their eyes locked. “Akira. You and your mother have made these passed twenty years rich and filled with love. I thought you were a fool to ruin our family on a whim.”

Akira lowered his eyes.

“But,” Master Touya persisted. “I’ve come to realize that it was not you who ruined our family, but me. I was the one who turned you away when you came to us with the truth. I was the one who cast you away in shame.” He held out his hands. “I fear for your future, Akira. But you are man enough to make your own choices.”

“Father…” Akira rose. “You mean…?”

“Yes. I offer my apologies to you. I was so angry that you’d thrown away the perfect future we’d made together that I was willing to lose you. Your mother has helped me realize that you were going down the same path that I once walked; a lonely path, filled with darkness and pain. The path of a GO pro obsessed with the game. But Shindou has brought you truth. He has brought you light in exactly the same form that your mother appeared to me in. Love.” He shivered. “I don’t know if his love is true. Or if it’s forever. But I do know the value of that love, and what it meant for me to receive it after years of darkness. My time in this life has been equal parts darkness and light. Without love, there would have only been the light of ambition, which cannot survive a heart for as long as I have lived. Your heart, too, needs love.

“Akira, I give you my blessing to follow the path you have chosen for yourself,” Master Touya declared. “Before my time is up and I must leave you, just know that no matter what happens, you will always be my son. And I will always be proud of you.”

“Thank you, father.” Akira took his father’s hand, so large and frail in his own. “Our family is not ruined. It never was. It was only broken, and you have mended it with your wisdom. Your years are not up yet. Let us cherish them. Together.”

Master Touya nodded sagely. “All of us.”

 

* * *

 

 

Hikaru smiled as Akira’s mother sat down alongside him. “Mrs. Touya,” he said. “Akira’s been doing very well with me and my mother.”

“He eats alright?” Akira’s mother asked. “He irons his clothes? And does his homework every night?”

“We make sure of it,” Hikaru grinned.

The slender woman took his hand. “Hikaru. You are an angel. Thank you for taking in our son during this difficult time.”

Blushing, Hikaru rubbed his head. “I’m not all that. I… I love your son, Mrs. Touya. I’d do anything to make things better between him and his father.”

“Oh? Even if it means he has to come back home?”

“Yes.” Hikaru’s face was chiseled from stone. “Even if it means he has to go back home. That’s where he belongs right now – with you, and with your husband.”

Mrs. Touya laughed. “You’re so much more humble than my son lets on!”

“Well…” Hikaru shrugged. “We butt heads a little. But that’s over now.”

She eyed him. “Truly? After all these years, you’re sure that it’s over?”

Nodding, Hikaru studied her dark eyes. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

The door opened, and Akira emerged at last. They both stood up expectantly. “Akira?” Mrs. Touya asked.

“Father wants to speak with Hikaru.” Akira flashed them a smile. “Alone.”

Hikaru paled. “I-I don’t know, Akira.” He yelped as Akira grabbed his hands and dragged him into the room. Suddenly he was standing in front of Master Touya. Akira’s hand passed across his back as he retreated into the corridor. The sound of the door closing was final. Hikaru gulped. “I-I’m very glad that you’re ok, Master Touya.” He bowed low.

“Hikaru. Come here.”

At the beckoning of the master Hikaru approached his bedside. “Yes, Master?” He replied. Hikaru was surprised to find that, looking this closely, he could see Akira’s eyes scrutinizing him from Master Touya’s lined face. He’d noticed years ago how identical they were in their sternness but to see the same deep green eyes in this man that he’d seen in the boy he made love to was a bit unnerving. He knew those eyes. He loved those eyes.

And now, those eyes looked deeply into his own. “I have a favor to ask of you.”

“O-Of course, Master!”

“I want you to protect Akira.”

Hikaru’s heart skipped a beat. “Protect him, Master?”

“Yes,” Master Touya said quietly. “Tell no one what I’m about to tell you. Swear it to me.”

“Master. I swear,” Hikaru quaked.

The master looked satisfied. “Hikaru… Akira’s heart is my own heart. I know how he feels. He experiences the same pain that I once endured at his age. We are very different in many ways, but I still know how easily his heart can succumb to darkness. You too must know. You’ve seen it – that night he told us of, when he aggravated the feelings of a rapist, desperate for him to stay in Japan.”

“I have.” Hikaru lowered his eyes.

“He’s a sensitive soul because I have raised him to be as such. It’s not just his nature. I raised him to be aware of the movement of the world around him, its ebb and flow, but I could not do that without making him sensitive to it. And in doing this I’ve made his heart vulnerable.” Akira’s father shook his head. “I became sensitive out of necessity, but it consumed me. I hoped to alleviate that darkness in my son but I have failed.”

Silence choked Hikaru. What words could ameliorate such guilt?

“But he doesn’t need me now. I’ve done my part. Now Akira has you, Hikaru. You’ve given him a love that has healed his heart from the darkness I’ve neglected to protect him from. A darkness I’ve caused with my anger.” Master Touya reached out and offered Hikaru his hand, which Hikaru took gingerly. “Please. If you truly love my son, continue to protect him. Keep him safe from the darkness in this world that threatens to swallow us all. As long as he has love in his heart he will never become as cold and as angry as I have.”

Holding Master Touya’s hand with the delicacy of fine China, Hikaru looked him in the eye with all the steel of his determination. “I swear,” he whispered. “I swear on everything that I am; on all my love and all that I hold dear. I will keep your son safe. I will keep Akira safe, as long as I live.”


	20. Distractions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> View discretion is advised.

Akira sat by the phone. It was on the corner of the low coffee table flipped open but dark and still. Oppressing dim lighting broke the pitch black here and there; lampposts from the street shone through the window casting long, melancholy lines of caramel light across the carpet. He couldn’t see the design of the wallpaper but he could hear the sound of his own heartbeat; all other noises were soaked into the floor and vanished. The clock’s hands moved without ticking. Cars crept passed, eerie at first and then unnerving in the deafening silence. His pulse became aligned with his breathing and he gasped despite himself at the sudden realization. Pressing a hand to his chest, he bowed his head, letting his dark hair hide his face. He was panicking over nothing.

He glanced up at the clock for the sixth time since he’d sat down. One in the morning. Four hours has passed this way. It had been three hours since Hikaru came to check on him. Feeling uncomfortable, Akira shifted on the couch, shooting another glance at his dark phone. The doctor had come to them before they left and informed them that the next twelve hours was a critical time for Master Touya; if his body responded well to rest and medication he was ensured a quick recovery. If not, some unforeseen damage could spell disaster for the Master, and Akira felt a heavy pit in his stomach at the thought.

Because he wasn’t quite over the shock of having his father hospitalized and because he still felt strange, as he had all day, he’d decided to stay awake until the time period was up. He was too restless to sleep anyway. A big part of him wished that Hikaru would come back and sit with him all night, but he knew it was selfish to make him stay awake when he was tired. It didn’t help. He couldn’t help but cross his fingers for the sound of footsteps. Turning his head, he leaned it back against the couch as he looked longingly at the stairs.

They’d spent every night together so far. Akira found himself to be a very clingy sleeper. If he lay up against Hikaru, moving when he moved, they had just enough space to sleep soundly in the twin bed. Plus, every morning Hikaru woke up in a very good mood. Untangling his boyfriend from around his neck proved to be a very therapeutic start to the day.

Akira’s heart thundered as he thought about the love making they’d done in a week. Hikaru had been brave enough to buy everything they needed to experiment with what little Akira had learned from those videos he’d watched at the hotel, and every morning his mother left for work until late in the afternoon. So every morning they tried something new. School didn’t start again for a month. If Akira chose to move back home, this luxury would be out of the question. His family would wonder why he left every morning at the crack of dawn to see Hikaru and eventually his father would realize the truth. Even if he didn’t, they’d definitely get caught by someone.

Sinking down in the couch, Akira rubbed his face with both hands a little too hard. He felt like a live wire. Why was he so anxious? His father was going to be fine. He’d been fine last time. This was no different, right? He groaned under his breath in frustration. This was going to be a long night.

He was just losing himself in thought when he heard the stairs creaking. Whipping around, Akira spotted Hikaru tip-toeing down the stairs and his heart flooded with relief. Hikaru looked tired but happy. He’d probably given himself some time to sleep before he was ready to stay up all night with him. Akira thanked the gods for Hikaru’s kind heart. Hikaru must’ve seen the pleading in Akira’s eyes because he sat against him on the couch, touching his face to lure him into a kiss. His lips tasted like sleep. Akira wrapped his arms around him in a passionate embrace. He pushed his nose into Hikaru’s hair.

“You don’t look well,” Hikaru said in a low voice, rubbing his back with open hands. “I’m worried about you.”

Akira breathed him in. “I don’t feel well. I can’t figure myself out. Really, I’m sorry to worry you, Hikaru.”

Hikaru squeezed his body tightly. “You should get some sleep. Really. Your father won’t get any better if you worry.” Closing his eyes, Akira laced his arms around Hikaru’s neck and leaned into him. He said nothing. Of course he couldn’t argue but his body was betraying him. It refused to let him rest. Hikaru understood; he took a deep breath, his chest swelling, and released a sigh. “Wanna do something?” He whispered in his ear. “I bought something new today.”

Akira felt a thrill go through him. “Your mother is home!” He hissed. “Shouldn’t it wait?”

“I can’t wait,” Hikaru smiled against his ear. “I want to use it on you. If you’re in the mood, of course.”

Sparks of lust coiled around Akira’s groin. He grinned, nervous. They’d never done something with his mom in the house. “I don’t know if I can be quiet, Hikaru.”

That was enough for Hikaru. He slipped his hand between Akira’s legs to palm the swell in his jeans. “You have no choice,” he murmured.

Akira arched his back seductively. Aroused by the danger of being discovered, his body pulsated, desperate to release all of its pent up energy. His cock eagerly grew when Hikaru teased it. His legs were pushed apart by Hikaru’s body as he pinned him to the couch; he gasped as Hikaru sank his teeth into his throat, sucking and running his tongue along his pale flesh. A shudder passed through him. Hikaru was already unbuttoning his fly.

The room swam for Akira. They kissed, tongues rolling. Hikaru wore only a t-shirt and boxers and his hard-on fit between Akira’s legs. It felt so thick and hard through two layers of fabric. He slipped Akira’s cock out. Reaching behind him, Hikaru drew something from the elastic of his boxers. Akira opened his eyes and they rested on the short metal rod in his hand. It was short and very skinny with a small ball on the tip. It was slender enough to be mistaken for some sort of screwdriver piece and not obviously sexual so Akira was puzzled over what it was for. This was the first one he’d ever seen.  

Hikaru squeezed Akira’s cock up until he was gently pinching the tip and Akira fought down a wild moan. His silent ecstasy made Hikaru grin. “Close your eyes.” Akira gazed into his hazel jade eyes, his own filled with trust, and tightened his grip around Hikaru’s neck to draw him closer. Hikaru obliged him with a kiss. Then he put a hand under Akira’s shirt and grasped his breast. A small sexual massage gave Akira a rush of endorphins that made him dizzy. “Just focus on my voice,” Hikaru coaxed. “I’ll be gentle, but tell me if you want it to stop.”

“Alright,” Akira replied, closing his eyes. “I will.” The world went dark as he untangled his arms from Hikaru’s neck and emptied his mind. There was nothing. There was no room. There was no phone. There was only the thrilling fear of discovery, the unknown, and the pleasure of Hikaru’s hands. His cock throbbed in Hikaru’s grasp.

The hand on his breast drew away, then something cold and hard slid in to replace it. Akira shivered. The foreign object trailed beneath his clothes in a listless fashion. It meandered along his sensitive ribs, trailed between his small breasts, and slowly glided towards his nipple. Akira tensed instinctively. He still didn’t know what the rod was for. It felt strange having it touch him sexually and he trusted Hikaru, but it unnerved him. Protruding from his breast eagerly, his pale pink nipple hardened as the cold metal brushed it. A mouth-watering tingle rippled through Akira as the ball of the rod found the center of his nipple and rolled languidly around it. He couldn’t resist a muffled noise of surprise.

At the same time Akira felt Hikaru slowly stroke his cock its full length. His fingers were barely grasping it, making it more of a tease than a tug, and Akira’s body immediately cried out for more. The metal ball moved casually across his chest to his other nipple. Akira felt the ghost of Hikaru’s fingers rubbing the spot where his cock met his pelvis as another burst of tingling accompanied the small metal ball’s touch. The combination was irresistible. Akira’s knees strained against his jeans to open wider as his hips shifted carefully, hungrily, beneath Hikaru’s touch.

Hikaru’s thumb brushed his pelvis, prickling the coarse hairs that grew there. A flash of desire rippled through Akira’s groin. He took a shuddering breath under the weight of his expectations and in this moment of limbo between pleasure and desperation, he thought about just how easy it was for Hikaru to make him unravel. They were both still very sensitive to new pleasures. Every time they heard the door slam in the morning they burst out from under the covers and desperately threw their bodies together, barely able to contain their insatiable hormonal lust.

But in the quiet moments of the night when they were stretched luxuriously together in bed, hovering right on the precipice of sleep, the smallest brush of Hikaru’s fingers near his groin sent Akira’s body into a frenzy. Sometimes it was on purpose. Then he’d curse himself for being teased so easily and have to fight a boner all night. But sometimes the reaction was elicited purely by accident. Sometimes, just lying against him made Akira horny. He often experienced guilt at pressing his stiff member into Hikaru’s back when he knew that he couldn’t do anything about it lest they wake his mother.

But he couldn’t help it. There was just something in Akira’s bones that made him eager to be taken advantage of by his lover; there was something in him that yearned to be vulnerable against the force of Hikaru’s lust, helpless to resist an orgasm by his hand, weak beneath the weight of his body. Akira couldn’t put it into words yet but he did understand why he felt this way. It was so easy for him to trust Hikaru. He lived to please Akira in every way. But it was more than that. It was more than experience, more than trust.

Finally, Hikaru gave him a good hard stroke and Akira fucked hard into his hand, biting his lip as Hikaru allowed him a nice steady rhythm. Relief and hunger mingled in his veins. He felt more sensitive and more pleased with every stroke. The simple act of teasing his body’s most vulnerable nerve endings had put him over the edge. Akira felt the tip of his cock dribbling with precome; he gave his cock a good down-stroke, squeezing more out until it leaked over Hikaru’s fingers and ran down his length, tickling him with its wet kiss. Pools of it slipped down between his balls. These jeans are going to be stained, Akira thought absently, but he’d come all over them if he could. It felt so good to be close to climax. If he could just feel this way for a little longer…

Suddenly, Hikaru’s grasp loosened. Akira’s cock barely rested in the circle of his hand. Aghast, Akira released a muffled groan to signal his distaste. He was hot and horny and he just wanted to come already but he kept his eyes shut, trembling with need. Something cold touched the tip of his penis. He felt a flash of panic. What was he doing? That wasn’t going to tease him again, was it? The ball of the rod rolled around the head of his cock triggering the sensitive flesh there and despite Akira’s anxiety it made his balls tighten with pleasure. He swallowed drily. He was feverish with climax. At this point, he’d do anything to get Hikaru to make him come.

The metal ball rolled around in his precome, growing closer and closer to the slit. It rubbed against the hot red flesh of his tip with measured patience. And then with slow, subtle pumping motions, the ball eased into the slit of Akira’s penis. Delicious ecstasy exploded inside him. Akira jolted in shock. It only pushed the ball in deeper, pleasure crackling through him like fireworks, and he couldn’t keep a high-pitched whine from spilling out of him. Hikaru’s free fingers hurriedly sank into his mouth. Akira wrapped his tongue around both of them, allowing them to muffle his pleasured moaning just enough for him to keep whining against the feeling. He sprawled out helplessly. The taste of Hikaru’s fingers made him salivate, his whole body jerking as the small metal ball scraped gently up and down the walls of his urethra.  

Akira came, thrashing and frantic to fuck through his climax. Hikaru grabbed his cock tightly and let him fuck around the rod. His hand grew slick with jizz. Finally, his cock soft and pulsating with a fading orgasm, Akira went limp. The rod slid out of his slit gently. His mouth was slack around Hikaru’s fingers. Drawing them out as well, Hikaru wiped them dry and pushed Akira’s bangs out of his eyes. The rod vanished as he gave Akira’s cock an affectionate squeeze.

When he managed to open his eyes Akira saw Hikaru’s face filled with breathless wonder. “What…” Akira panted. “The fuck… was that…?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to leave feedback! Don't worry; we all love porn, there's no judgement.


	21. Mutual Understanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira realizes how important equality is.

Hikaru and Akira stole up the stairs and locked themselves in the bathroom. Flipping on the light, Hikaru reached for a towel from the cupboard. “It’s called sounding,” he explained. “And I can already tell how much you like it.”

“I would’ve probably said ‘no’ if you’d told me what it was to begin with.” Akira took the towel indignantly. “It’s not something I would normally be comfortable with. But… yes, I did.” He placed his phone on the counter. “Have you tried it yourself?”

Hikaru blushed. “Well…”

“Did you really?” Akira cried in surprise. “When?”

“Hey, don’t pretend like I’m the pervert here!” Hikaru protested. “I was testing it out, so that I could do it right!”

Akira removed his soiled clothing and was left with only his underwear. He cleaned up the rest of the mess with the towel, eyeing Hikaru. “For me,” he added.

“Hm?”

“You practiced for me.”

“I mean, yeah… of course.” Akira smiled to himself as he put the towel in the hamper and washed his hands. Beside him, Hikaru held onto an air of confusion. “What?” Hikaru pressed. “Don’t I always?”

Akira shrugged coyly. “And when you practiced, did you like it?”

“I… yeah, I did. Otherwise I wouldn’t have offered to use it on you.” Hikaru squinted at him suspiciously. “You’re not telling me something. I can feel it.” Walking over to the tub Akira leaned over it, closing the drain. His fingers eased the hot water faucet open and the sound of rushing water filled the bathroom. He adjusted the temperature of the stream carefully. Alongside him, Hikaru had paused by the door. “You… you’re taking a bath? This late?” He questioned.

“How else are we going to stay awake?” Akira offered. He saw Hikaru gulp. They’d only ever done things in bed, and tonight they’d done something on the couch. Akira felt a rush of excitement; he was relaxed and comfortable physically, but there was still something in the back of his mind that was causing him anxiety. He didn’t like it. But seeing how easily lust distracted him, he decided to take advantage of this opportunity to its fullest. Hikaru did a lot for him. It was time he showed some gratitude.

The tub was going to take a minute to fill up. Akira stepped up to Hikaru and toyed with the elastic waistband in his boxers, pulling the sounding rod from where he’d tucked it against his hip. “I hope the tub is big enough for two.” Hikaru’s face turned beet red as Akira turned gracefully and washed the rod in the sink.

Watching the water rise, Hikaru stood nervously at the edge of the tub. Akira glanced at him. He wanted to do more, of course he did. He was just wary of how it was going to work. Could they be quiet enough not to wake his mother? Akira had certainly struggled, and they were lucky that his last cry hadn’t done them in. Akira pushed off his underwear and left it lying on the floor. He pushed the sounding rod into Hikaru’s hands. Offering him a kiss on the temple, Akira stepped into the steaming water and settled down with confidence. He was going to show him that things were going to be fine.

Wavering, Hikaru’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. He’d never seen him totally naked like this, Akira realized. It had just seemed so natural to climb into the bath that he hadn’t thought about it. Smiling, he held out his hand. “Be careful,” he warned. “It’s slippery.”

. Hikaru handed Akira the rod. “Ok. Ok, give me a second.” He seemed to steel himself. He took off his boxers, kicking them aside, and took a deep breath before he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it away.

Akira’s heart skipped a beat. He’d never seen Hikaru naked like this, either. Often in the lull between moments he’d try to picture Hikaru’s full body when he was standing like this, bare to the world, but there wasn’t enough imagination in the world to describe it. His narrow shoulders flowed into his collarbone, pronounced beautifully beneath his skin, and grew to form the youthful swell of his chest. His nipples were dark. Gentle blond hairs grew between his breasts. There were faint freckles here and there, scattered on his shoulders and then around each nipple, which Akira had never seen before. There were bends in him; there were nicks, scars, and neglected angles that Akira had failed to notice before, but seeing them in all their glory just seemed to add to how spectacularly beautiful Hikaru was.

Hikaru was blessed from his slender throat to his supple hips. His long torso was cut crisply into the curves of a being who was made to be touched by the hands of another man. Akira had often left marks from his teeth and tongue along that body, but never before had he experienced the pleasure of seeing it like this. It was amazing. How did he look to Hikaru, he wondered? Did he have strong shoulders? Was he too thin? Too narrow? But when Hikaru stepped into the water and sat across from him in the tub, Akira met his eyes and the same bewildered, loving wonder that he felt was reflected back at him.

It was fascinating to find that they were equally enamored with one another. It had always been Hikaru doting on Akira in the wake of his beauty but Akira now understood his flustered, protective nature. A rush of testosterone filled him. If anyone tried to touch Hikaru the way that he did, Akira would strike them down with lightning. No one could be worthy. He himself didn’t feel worthy.

“Akira?” Hikaru spoke up. “Are you all right? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

“You’re so beautiful.” Akira breathed. “Hikaru, I love you.”

Laughing, Hikaru rubbed his head. “You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

Hikaru tilted his head to look at him. There was hurt in his eyes.

“Hikaru?” Akira pressed fearfully.

Hikaru’s eyes flickered. He glanced away. “That thing you do, you know… when you make it sound like you only love me because…” He trailed off guiltily. Because of sex, Akira thought. Because of your body.

Akira’s mouth sealed shut. He was right. Reaching out, Akira touched Hikaru’s knee, which was leaning against the side of the tub. He rubbed it with his thumb. “Hikaru,” he began. “If I say that it’s not what it sounds like, it’ll sound even worse. So I’m going to say this instead.” He tucked his hair behind his ears and gazed into the water that lapped gently at Hikaru’s shin, darkening the blond hairs there and casting them in shadow. A flow of words filled his mind.

Finally, he lifted his eyes to look at him. “You’re very open with the way you feel because you’ve come to terms with it; what it means, how it affects you, and how it affects me. You think that because I haven’t reached that comfort level that I somehow don’t feel as deeply for you as you do for me.”

He shrugged but didn’t break eye contact. “I don’t know if that’s true. I won’t know for a long time. I might never know. I can’t measure how I feel about you, Hikaru, but I can tell you that it’s bottomless. It’s endless. It goes beyond emotions or words. It overwhelms me so much, confuses me so much, that whenever I try to grasp its meaning, those feelings… they swallow me entirely. I’m still struggling, but my silence in not a reflection of my feelings.”

Suddenly, his face broke into a smile. “Whenever I’m surprised by the way that I feel, like I was just now, the words pour out of me in the only way that my lips know.” He held out his hands and, relieved, Hikaru grabbed onto them. Akira threaded their fingers with slow affectionate motions. “I do love you. You’re a blessing, Hikaru. But you’re so much better than I am at being in love. Right now I’m scared and selfish, and I only want to learn how to control my feelings because I’m afraid of them. But if you’re patient with me, and give me time, and continue to be kind to me, I promise that one day you and I will truly be equals in life and in love. I swear it, Hikaru; you might even find one day that, in love… I have surpassed you.”

Hikaru searched his eyes for a moment. Akira held his breath. What was he looking for, he wondered? The truth? A lie? Whatever he was looking for, he seemed to find it. A big goofy smile took over his face. “I believe you,” he said simply.

A rush of relief and love thundered in Akira’s chest. He squeezed Hikaru’s fingers and they sat together, comfortable in the silence and memorizing the pattern of each other’s faces as if they didn’t already know every cut of their jaw by heart. The drip of the faucet filled the silence. The night ticked on. Somewhere deep inside them there was a new and immeasurably strong bond formed; a bond of trust. Akira felt it. He saw in Hikaru’s eyes that he felt it, too.

And Akira knew that he would be held to that promise forever.

 They moved together, tangling their bodies, and washed each other’s hair with gentle fingers. Soap muddied the water. Talking, grinning, exchanging touches, they cleaned their bodies carelessly. Both were more concerned about keeping good company than about bathing. Talking became touching. Touching became kissing. Kissing became intimacy. Akira stroked Hikaru until his member protruded from the water. He coaxed a slick of precome from the tip before fucking him with the sounding rod. Hikaru writhed beneath his touch, helpless against Akira’s confident strength, and in the wee hours of the morning he came in silence and soiled the water with his seed.

Akira stroked Hikaru’s thigh as he lay panting. Now they both felt that heavy relaxation that came after an orgasm. When Hikaru recovered enough to move, they rose together, bumping as they clumsily dried one another. Nothing more was said. A comforting silence filled the space between them. Hikaru had sloshed water on the floor in his climactic frenzy so he spent time mopping it up, thinking as he did so. Akira dried and combed out his hair in the mirror with even strokes.

The hall was deathly still as they carried their warm naked bodies to bed where they lay in the dim morning light, discovering every new bend and blemish in their bodies. Then, when the twelve hour mark had come and gone, Akira placed his phone on the bedside table and they buried beneath the covers. Both passed into a deep, uninterrupted sleep.  


	22. Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira vanishes.

Hikaru had gone to a match and his mother was gone for the day. It had been almost a month since Akira’s stay at his house, and being there without him always made him feel empty. This was Hikaru’s home but it was not home without Hikaru. Akira made himself tea in the kitchen. It was getting warmer now. The sun shone outside, the birds singing timidly, but inside Akira’s heart was storming. Sighing, Akira poured the steaming hot water into a mug and dropped in a tea bag. He stared at it as the water swirled with deep amber.

After his father’s recovery in the hospital his parents wanted him to move back home. He should’ve been elated. He missed his parents; he missed their quiet presence. He missed his mother’s kind smile and her warmth. He missed his bed, his GO board, his windows, his home… Akira glanced around. The corners of this place were familiar to him now. Every scruff in the carpet knew him; every wall shivered at his gentle touch, and when he lay on the bed wasting away hours in thought, the smell of Hikaru and the anticipation of his return made Akira feel alive.

That was all snatched from him if he moved back home. There would be no more morning love. There would be no more family dinners holding hands under the table. Akira folded his arms on the counter and buried his face in them, his hair spilling over the sleeves of his lavender shirt. “I don’t want to,” he whispered to the house. “I don’t want to leave.”

For the first time in a while Akira felt tears prick his eyes. A strong pressure pushed on his chest and he sobbed once, twice. The air wheezed from his lungs. He slid to the floor, curling up against the cupboards. Around him the house swam in colors and comforting scents and he leaned his head back, letting the tears carve sloping pathways down his pale face. I love him, Akira thought numbly. I want to stay with Hikaru like this forever.

He didn’t want to move out or move on; he didn’t want to go home and risk returning to his lonely life, filled with pressure and pain. Part of him argued against his doubts. Now his parents would love and accept his choices, but how would that change things? Would their relationships change? Akira shut his eyes. He couldn’t imagine a scenario where he could continue to live in such happy bliss without the pressure of his life. Here, the demands of the pro world were so far away. He won games and met new people, he battled gracefully against the threat of his elders, and every day he got to come home to Hikaru. Hikaru waiting at the top of the steps with a new movie or a new manga. Any new chance for them to sit together or lie together and touch. Not intimately, not always, but to be near one another had become their greatest comfort.

He’d told Hikaru last week about his parents’ wish for him to come home. Since then they hadn’t really talked about it. But Hikaru had been acting more impulsive lately. He would kiss Akira out of nowhere, narrowly avoiding his mother spotting them, or grab him in public without checking to see if they were being watched. It wasn’t a bad thing. Akira enjoyed his extra spurts of affection at the risk of them being seen. But for their reputations, it was reckless.

Akira worried about him reacting poorly to him going home and in the silence of the house, he allowed himself to weep for them. They lived in a world where their love was rejected. They could never truly live in peace – not like this – unless it was a secret. Maybe Hikaru was feeling the effects of that. He wanted to love Akira out in the open. Akira didn’t blame him. Akira loved the thrill of their secret love and he knew that practically it was better for things to stay as they were, but even he wished that they didn’t have to hide their love.

He touched his chest where his heart fluttered against his ribs like a frightened bird. The only other option for them was public ridicule and shame. Could they handle that? Akira slowly got off the floor. He took his cup of tea and eased into a chair at the comfortable table. There his phone sat on the placemat narrow and dark, speaking quite loudly although it was silent. He eyed it. They were one phone call away from going public. Akira would never do things the official way; he preferred to keep things between himself and their families, but if that meant one day going out with Hikaru on his arm then that’s what he was going to do. No conferences. No articles in the paper. And no phone calls.

Akira lifted his tea to his lips. Ripping through the silence, his phone began to wail with a familiar ringtone. He was startled significantly. His tea spilled into his lap, making him yelp, and he scrambled to get up as he flipped open his phone to answer it. “H-Hello?” He answered, dabbing hot tea off his thigh with a napkin.

“Akira.”

Thunderstruck, Akira pulled the phone away from his ear and looked down at the caller ID. His cell was shaking when he pressed it to his ear again. “Satori,” he quaked.

Over the line came the crackle of a deep breath. “I need to see you.”

“What? Are you back in Japan?”

“If I was in England, would you still come?”

Akira blushed. Old feelings for Satori rekindled in his breast like sparking embers. “Why are you back, Satori?” He demanded. “You said you were leaving forever!”

“I’ll explain everything when I see you. I… I can see you, can’t I?”

There was such sorrow, such misery in Satori’s voice that Akira felt his heart grasped by an unseen hand and he gasped as it squeezed him tight. “Of course. Of course you can.” He pushed his bangs off his forehead anxiously. “I’m…” No, he didn’t want to bring Satori here, this wasn’t his house; Hikaru would never allow it. And he couldn’t go to Satori’s old house because he’d sold it. Damn, where could they talk?

“Come to the soba noodles shop downtown,” Satori said evenly. “I’ll be at the table in the back.”

“When?”

“Now.”

Akira swallowed. “O-Ok.”

“See you soon.”

The line went dead. Akira, a flustered mess, looked at the clock. It was nearly time for Hikaru to come home. Shit, he better run before he gets back and tries to stop him. He flew upstairs and grabbed his wallet and a spare house key. He flipped his phone shut and then opened it again, dialing for a cab on his way down the stairs. He stepped into his shoes, tossed his jacket on, and grabbed an umbrella on his way out the door.

 

* * *

 

 

When Hikaru got home he was bushed. He’d spent all day playing his opponent, an older man from the next district, and then he’d been dragged on a tour of the city with him and his bad mouth. He was sweaty and exhausted and as soon as he was out of his shoes, he collapsed onto the couch. “Damn old man!” He muttered. “I was supposed to be home hours ago!”

Eerie silence greeted him. With effort, he dragged his head up off the couch and looked around. No Akira. No mom. He frowned and looked at the clock. It was almost time for his mom to come home; maybe she’d been out grocery shopping. But Akira?

“Akira?” Hikaru called nervously. “Are you home?”

Again, silence greeted him. He got up off the couch. In each room he found small traces of Akira: a cold mug of tea, a discarded tie, a rumpled bed, a stray manga lying on the coffee table; but no Akira. He must’ve gotten called away. Hikaru went up to his room and opened the dresser. A sigh of relief flew out of him. Akira hadn’t taken his things, so he wasn’t moving out or anything. Hikaru chastised himself for thinking that he’d leave without saying good bye. But if he wasn’t at home, where was he? Was his father hurt again?

Hikaru glanced at his bedside clock nervously. Normally, he wouldn’t bother Akira when he was out, but he had a bad feeling in his gut. It was too late for a game and Akira didn’t like to go out for strolls in the neighborhood because he might be spotted. So where was he? Taking out his phone Hikaru dialed him quickly and walked around the hallway as the call connected. It began to ring softly in his ear. So Akira’s phone was on; but was it turned up, or was it on silent? He waited impatiently for the ringing to end and Akira’s voice to answer him.

“Come on!” He groaned. But no. The phone continued ringing until it reached voicemail. Grudgingly, Hikaru waited for the beep to sound. “Hey, Akira, it’s me. I was just worried about where you went. If you’re busy, don’t worry about calling me back. Just text me if you can. I love you.” He hung up, staring down the hall towards the door.

For some reason his heart was aching in his chest. He didn’t like this. Not at all. Clutching his phone tightly in his hand, Hikaru marched down the steps and put his shoes back on.


	23. Departed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira finds himself deceiving Hikaru.

Akira was nowhere to be found. His parents didn’t know where he was. Hikaru had called him sixteen more times with no response. The sun set over the horizon and Tokyo grew dark with the cold and quiet night. It was lit by neon pink signs that lined the main streets but to Hikaru’s empty heart everything was in black and white. He’d gone to all Akira’s favorite places, seen all Akira’s close friends, and even been to all the GO salons he frequented hoping to find him laughing and talking to the old men over an interesting game. All to no avail.

Akira was gone.

Hikaru sank down on a bench outside of Akira’s favorite museum and put his face in his hands. Dread filled him from head to toe. Could he have run away? No, he would’ve packed at least some of his things. The state of the house said that he’d left in a hurry. But where would he go? Why would he leave so suddenly? Desperate fear replaced dread. What if he’d gone on an errand and been mugged, or hurt? What if someone knew about them and had wanted to hurt Akira? Hikaru tried to shut out the images in his mind of Akira lost, alone, and hurt, but they were too powerful.  

He sprang off the bench and took off through the streets at a run. People flew passed him. Hikaru sprinted through crowds and parks, leaping over crosswalks in the middle of traffic with the feeling of asphalt and concrete pounding beneath his sneakers. Akira, Akira, Akira… Hikaru thought desperately. Where are you? Why didn’t you tell me where you were going?

With a stab of realization Hikaru came to a dead stop. He put his hands out and pressed them against a cold window, leaning heavily on the glass as he struggled to catch his breath. Around him the crowd swam.

He didn’t tell me because he didn’t want me to know, Hikaru thought. His phone rang. Like lightning he flipped it open and shoved it to his ear. “Hello?” He cried.

“Hikaru?” His mother’s voice was thin with worry. “Where are you? What’s going on?”

“Akira is gone, mom,” Hikaru said flatly. “I can’t find him anywhere.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I’ve looked everywhere and I can’t find him!”

“Honey, he just called me. Akira is fine.”

Frozen, Hikaru stared at his reflection in the window. “What did you say?”

“I said stop running around the city like a chicken with its head cut off and come home. Akira is fine, I’m sure he’ll call you any minute now and explain everything. Honey, will you-”

At that moment Akira’s ringtone blasted in his ear. Hikaru didn’t hesitate to cut off his mother and answer it. “Akira?” He demanded.

“Hikaru!” Akira sounded upset. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize how long I’d been gone. Please forgive me. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

Trembling with relief, Hikaru sank to a crouch on the sidewalk. “You’re ok. Jesus Christ, I’m so happy to hear your voice. Did you not get my voicemail?”

“I… No, I didn’t.”

Hikaru paused. “Are you sure?” He asked suspiciously. “You sound strange.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t get it.” Akira’s voice was crisper now; colder.

“Akira…” Hikaru cradled the phone in his hand. “Please tell me you’ll be home soon.”

“Not until late.”

Getting to his feet, Hikaru rubbed his neck. “It’s already late.”

“I know. Don’t worry, I’m ok. Everything’s ok.”

“Are you sure?” Hikaru whispered.

His words hung between them in the pause that followed like ice crystals dangling on a powerline. Akira’s shaky breath rattled the crystals, sending up a flurry of beautiful noises as they rattled together, and his words shattered them. “No,” he confessed quietly.

“Where are you? I’ll come get you right now!”

“No! No, I-I…”

“Please!” Hikaru pleaded. “I need to make sure you’re alright!”

“No,” Akira shot back. “I can handle myself. I’m fine.”

“Where are you?” Hikaru yelled into the phone. “Why won’t you tell me where you went?”

“I’ll be home tonight. Good-bye, Hikaru.”

Click.

Swearing loudly into the night air, Hikaru turned heel and stalked back to the main street. People parted to let him through. His anger radiated off him in waves. He hailed a cab home and sat with his forehead to the window the whole ride back, tears of frustration blurring his vision until all he could see were blotches of neon pink and the black, black sky.

 

* * *

 

 

 Akira clicked shut his phone and looked out the window. The bay sparkled under the lights of Tokyo, mixing the sky and sea perfectly. His stomach lurched as the boat swayed beneath him and he clutched the edge of his seat anxiously. He hated boats.

“He sounded pissed,” Satori said from the wheel of the yacht. He was stunning in a silver suit that matched the moonlight softness of his hair, his blue eyes deep and mysterious behind his clear spectacles as he stood erect, easing them further out of the bay.

“It’s fine. I’ll think of something to tell him.”

“A lie?”

Akira looked up sharply. “If I tell him the truth, he’ll never trust me again,” he snapped.

Lifting an eyebrow, Satori turned from the wheel to look at him. “Truly?” He asked curiously.

Staring at him, Akira felt self-conscious. He looked away and rubbed his arms. “He loves me,” he managed. “He’s just worried.”

“If I were him, and a strange lover had kidnapped you, I’d feel the same way.” Satori turned back to the controls. “Are you sure you’d rather lie to him?”

“Yes.” Akira stared at his shoes. “The alternative is just too painful.”

 

* * *

 

 

The quiet halls of the hospital were weary and dark. Breaking the hush, the sound of clicking heels began to echo off the walls, and motion-sensitive lights flickered on as a body passed beneath them. The woman turned into the nurse ward and the door eased shut behind her.

There was again silence in the brightly lit hall. One by one the lights winked out. From the narrow crack below a door nearby, there was a rapid flicker of light as a steady beeping was cast from the devices inside. The beeping turned into a wail, the wail into an alarm. It went unanswered; it cried on as the sound of thrashing was heard from inside. Still the hospital slept on.

Suddenly, an explosion of voices and rapid footsteps poured from the nurse’s ward, throwing the door open wide and hurrying inside. Shouting rose like a tidal wave of panic. Frantic hands worked together to try to save the patient hooked to the screaming machines but by the time they arrived it was already too late.

Gradually, the shouting stopped. The footsteps froze. A horrified hush fell over the crowd of professionals posing here and there in the room, syringes and defibrillators clutched in their trembling hands.

An exhausted doctor checked the body for a pulse with two stiff fingers. He shook his head. As if in slow motion, the women and men put down their tools. They gathered together around the bed with heavy hearts and pulled down their masks, exposing the thin press of their lips. The same thought passed through all of them. For that moment, their eyes were the same; then the moment passed. It became death again. It became work. Once more, it became regular life.

They left in a shuffling single file until there was only one left. It was a single nurse with a clipboard clutched in his hands, his eyes fixed intently upon the body of the dead man. A GO tattoo peeked from beneath the sleeve of his scrubs, a simple design depicting a divine move. In the quiet hours of the night just before the new day dawned, the lonely nurse withdrew a pen from his breast pocket and wrote time of death in shaking kanji. It read:

11:42 PM, Feb. 13th

Cause of death: Heart attack

Name of patient: Touya Mejin


	24. Kidnapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Satori and Akira's interaction is revealed.

Akira took a cab from Hikaru’s house to the corner of downtown that was too crowded for him to be recognized. The cab wove through the streets as did he when he paid the cabbie and left it far behind him, plunging into the thick of the middle class men and women hurrying home for dinner. Akira glanced down at his phone. 5:14 PM. It had taken him half an hour to get here. He spotted the soba noodles shop on the corner of the next block and hurried through light, meandering traffic on his way across the street.

The shop was mostly empty. Only a few bachelors sat talking at the bar when Akira walked in. He’d never been here before but he’d seen it multiple times when his father had taken him downtown to visit their tailor. The walls were thick with velvet carpeting, the floor was polished black linoleum, and the tables were all sections of their own. He followed the narrow pathway between sections until he spotted a flash of silver at the back booth.

“Satori?” He spoke up.

The silver flickered. Gathering itself, the figure rose and turned to him, the picture of grace and charm. Satori looked brilliant in his silver suit. “Akira,” he smiled, extending his hand. Akira took the offered hand and, to his surprise, Satori turned it over and kissed his knuckles.

Blushing, Akira withdrew his hand, staring at his friend in awe. Satori motioned for him to take a seat. He obeyed. He placed aside his jacket as Satori pushed a glass of soda and ice across the table to him. “What’s going on?” Akira questioned. “Why are you here, Satori?”

“Good to see you, too.” Satori sat back and folded his hands in his lap.

“Sorry. I’m sorry. It’s good to see you again so soon, my friend.”

“You as well, Akira.”

“Are you in good health?”

“I’m as healthy as I’ll ever be. I’m sorry for the haste today.” Satori spread his hands open wide. “I didn’t find life in Europe to be to my taste.”

Eyeing him, Akira pushed the glass of soda aside. “Surely you’re joking? The lavish Europeans didn’t meet your standards?”

Shaking his head, Satori sighed. “It wasn’t them. It was me.” When he got no reply Satori looked at Akira and saw an unreadable expression on his face. “Dear God, Akira, don’t show me such harshness. I crossed oceans to be back here – continents.”

“What do you want?” Akira asked icily.

Satori fixed him with an even look. “You.” He played off Akira’s shock. “Akira, I didn’t break your heart because I wanted to. I did it because I was trying to give us both a chance at happiness. Me in recovery and… you with Hikaru.”

“I don’t understand. What changed?” Akira could barely think straight.

“I… couldn’t go through with it. As soon as I left the next day for London, I knew I’d made a mistake. I spent weeks living as a ghost of myself until I couldn’t bear it anymore.” His eyes held Akira in their steady gaze. “I couldn’t bear to be away from you anymore.”

Silence fell temporarily as the waitress appeared. Satori ordered for them and the girl glided away in good time, but Akira sat in violent turmoil. He took a deep breath as the doors of the kitchen flapped shut behind their waitress. “Satori,” he began. “You have to go back.”

“What?” Satori looked bewildered.

“Go back,” Akira demanded. “You left over a month ago, Satori, and things have changed since then. I told my parents about that night. They know how I feel now, about everything.” He aimed a sharp glare at Satori. “And they know about Hikaru.”

Satori lowered his eyes. “Right.”

“I don’t get you.” Akira crossed his arms. “This is what you wanted.”

“I didn’t think…”

“What did you think?” Akira interrupted in agitation. “What do you intend to do now, steal me from Hikaru?”

“That was my intention all along,” Satori shot back sarcastically.

Their eyes locked. Akira felt dread rise in his heart but fought it down angrily. “Don’t even joke like that.”

“I thought it would be good sport, leaving the only person I love in the clumsy hands of a commoner,” Satori persisted. His cynicism was sharp and cruel. He leaned forward, his eyes as solid as stone. “Akira, you’re treating my offer of love very harshly.”

“Maybe because you’re trying to ruin a relationship that _you_ created!” Akira cried.

Satori was steadfast. “I remember the night that I told you the truth. I remember your voice, and your tears; you love me, Akira. I know it. With all my heart, I could feel it.”

Akira felt his heart racing. He looked into Satori’s eyes and saw the truth. “I did love you then,” he whispered. “I loved you since we met. And now…” He cleared his throat and spoke clearly. “And now I love Hikaru.”

Satori relented, cradling his heart like a kicked puppy, and Akira shook his head. “I don’t know how you can justify this to yourself, Satori,” he said quietly. “You’re sick. I can see you’re still sick - a month away did nothing for your health and you don’t understand what you’re saying. I did love you. But it was you who ended it. It was you who left.” He looked at him intently. “What you’re offering to do is wrong, Satori. What you want me to do is even worse.”

His words seemed to put Satori in a state of agitation. Satori began to fidget, mutter, and bounce his leg, sending the pictures on the walls haggard glances that would have wilted a flower. His entirely handsome figure seemed to hunch into the sinewy skeleton of a much older man. His limbs moved as if they were jerked by a marionette. This change in attitude made Akira uneasy.

“Satori,” Akira tried. “Please understand…”

“No!” Satori retorted. “I don’t understand! How can you love a man one day, and love another the next? How can you?” Emotions rippled across his face. “How could you?”

Akira was determined to reason with him. “You terminated our relationship. You forced me to move on by forcing me to speak with Hikaru. What happened afterwards was the only logical stage of events.”

“What of that night?” Satori whispered, seeming to compose himself at the thought.

Looking at his pale, drawn face, Akira did not waver. “I was intoxicated.”

Slamming his hand on the seat, Satori made Akira jump. “You cried out for me! You _wanted_ me!”

“Yes!” Akira roared. “I did!” He lost his composure as Satori lapsed into silence. “But _we weren’t ready!_ You said so yourself! I wanted you the day that we met, and I wanted you _every day_ after that! I cried out for you that night because I knew if I didn’t make you stay then we’d never be ready. You made sure that I couldn’t have you ever again when you packed up your life and left me here… broken hearted and in pieces,” Akira finished coldly. “You ended things. You broke me, and Hikaru was there to pick up the pieces. He didn’t want me for my splendor, or my strength, or my body; he wanted me because of who I am.”

“I want you because of who you are!” Satori protested.

“You were willing to hurt me, to dominate me, in order to get what you wanted. Hikaru made sure that wasn’t possible. When my family exiled me, Hikaru took me in. He put me back together and he cared for me and he wanted me.” Akira took a shaky breath. “So I gave myself to him.”

Fury filled Satori’s eyes and Akira knew he’d made a mistake. He shrank back from him, his fingers clutching at his jacket in case he had to run or worse – fight. His body tensed for an explosion. But Satori’s fury melted into melancholy, his mood swinging violently into sadness. He looked away and sank back against the booth with a heavy heart. “Will you not give me one more chance?” He whispered.

“Another… chance?” Akira blurted.

“Please,” Satori pleaded with him. “Let me make it up to you!” He swung into the booth alongside Akira, trapping him there, and drew closer until they were touching. His hand rested on Akira’s thigh. His lips brushed Akira’s ear. “I can change,” he breathed. “For you, I can change.”

Despite his fear, Akira felt the tenderness in Satori’s touch and struggled against his feelings of lust. His body was responding to Satori even if he personally would rather run than agree to any further conversation. Clearly, Satori knew this, but he coaxed reactions out of Akira with his charm and eventually Akira had to make a choice. Either fight his way out and possibly injure Satori / be injured by Satori, or say yes and try to escape another time. Akira’s Adam’s apple bobbed.

“Show me you can change, Satori.” Akira allowed his voice to waver with the fear he felt, hoping it would be mistaken for lust, and to his immense relief Satori’s face blossomed into a handsome smile that changed his entire demeanor. Once again he became equal parts light and mysterious.

They walked briskly to where Satori had left his hired car. Grasping his hand, Satori eased Akira into the back seat, determined to watch him intently. Akira felt every bump in the road jostling his innards. His anxiety to flee only grew more profound. Alongside him, Satori continuously stroked Akira’s leg, his other arm draped over his shoulders. They rode the whole way in this manner.

Hikaru, Akira thought resolutely. Deceiving Satori is the only option that I have left. I will come home to you; I swear I will.


	25. Trapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Satori tries to have his way with Akira.

Akira had been on Satori’s yacht for such a long time that he was beginning to feel less anxious and more exhausted. He’d been man-handled onboard, and after Satori anchored them pretty far out, they’d been doing nothing but sitting on the couch outside looking at the moon. It wasn’t a big yacht, rather a luxury one for rent, but it was beautiful and well furnished. The couch was on the back deck. As the boat rocked, and Akira huddled anxiously under a blanket to get warm, Satori sat right alongside him as still as pond water. He didn’t once look away from the moon’s magnetic stare.

It was getting really late; or rather, it was getting early. Akira was ready to go home. A part of him was becoming desperate, fearful that Satori would do something to him or not let him leave, and his heart wept to think that he might never get to explain to Hikaru what had happened. He already missed the warmth of his presence. As the cold air seeped into his bones, Akira felt like crying, but he held himself together by thin strings. He had to put on a good show for Satori. Even if that meant sitting in silence for hours.

Finally, Satori shifted alongside him. He studied Akira and seemed pleased by the airs he was putting on. “It’s too cold,” he offered, putting an arm around Akira’s shoulders. “Come here.”

Akira bit his tongue and leaned into Satori. He was like a furnace! He didn’t have a blanket or anything. It was soothing at first but Akira noticed the weight of Satori’s gaze and realized what was about to happen. He was going to try to have sex with him. Akira’s brain calculated the end result before Satori managed to make the first move and Akira found himself whirling into a panic. He couldn’t die out here – not like this.

Satori’s hand slipped under the blanket and began to ease between Akira’s legs. His mouth hovered very close to Akira’s. Waves of sexual desire radiated from Akira’s body that were so strong that he almost felt faint.

It would be so easy, Akira’s lust offered. Just give him what he wants. If you live, Hikaru never has to know.

Yes he does, Akira argued. I could never keep this from him. It would ruin his heart to know that I had to do something like this – it will ruin me – but to avoid the truth is wrong.

Even though Akira’s thighs were tightly pressed together Satori managed to get his hand right where he wanted it. Already aroused, Akira’s genitals betrayed him, and he felt the cold drip of terror deep inside him as Satori leaned in for a kiss.

Hang on, Akira’s confidence cried. You can do this! You can survive!

Akira turned his face away in mock shyness. Satori was enthralled with this pretend game of cat and mouse. He kissed Akira’s neck, parting his hair with his nose and allowing it to brush over his cheeks as he did so. Akira gasped as Satori’s hand palmed him harder.

“It’s too cold out here,” Akira whined. “Why don’t we go back to the hotel?”

“Hm?” Satori’s eyes sharpened. “How did you know I was staying in a hotel?”

“G-Good guess,” Akira answered honestly.

Satori rubbed him languidly, feeding off every throb and shiver he got from Akira in reply. “Ok. The hotel, then.” He suddenly withdrew his hand and beckoned coolly to the night sky. “But this… it’s romantic, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Akira said softly. It truly was. In the wake of the terror Akira couldn’t control, he was still bombarded with the beauty of the ocean at night.

Smiling, Satori got up. “Come inside where it’s warm. I’ll weigh anchor.”

As he walked briskly away Akira stayed frozen in place. Not until his footsteps faded away did Akira drop his head into his hands and release a shudder of terror. If he hadn’t deflected Satori’s attention he would’ve been unable to stop himself from lashing out and breaking character. There was no way in hell he was going to fuck Satori even if it got him killed. But it was good, he thought, that his body wanted Satori. It made it easier to deceive him when every touch provoked a distracting response. He might pull this off yet.

Akira steeled himself. He got up, taking the blanket with him, and gathered with him all his grace and charm. It wasn’t time to cast off the role of the wavering lover just yet. He used the blanket as a cape as he shut himself in the main cabin and folded himself into a single seat, delicately settling his cape around him to keep warm. It was still quite cold even though Satori had the heat on.

The door opened and shut loudly as Satori strolled back inside. He had the sleeves of his suit rolled up. There was a brush of perspiration on his brow. But he manned the controls as suavely as ever, spinning the wheel until they faced Tokyo once more. Akira was enraptured by its beauty from so far away. It looked like a floating city. “How beautiful,” he whispered.

Satori nodded slowly. “Not as beautiful as you or I, though.” He sighed through his nose as the engine kicked on high and they began a steady cruise home. With one hand he eased the heat up a notch. “Would you do something for me?” He asked.

“What is it?” Akira made sure to keep his tone patient in case he betrayed any thinly concealed fear.

“Would you take off your clothes?” Satori asked in a dream-like voice. “I’d love to touch you.”

Akira stared at the back of his head intensely. “Once we’re at the hotel, we can do whatever you want.”

Satori shook his head without glancing back at him. “No. Now.” It wasn’t a hard tone, but it was more an order than an offer.

Akira’s desperation flared. He could feel his heart hammering and knew that if rose he would be trembling. “I… I’m too shy, I…” He said weakly. “I don’t know if I can.”

“Please try,” Satori said gently. “For me.” Silence stretched. Akira didn’t move. “Please?” Satori added.

“Alright.” The boat rocked beneath Akira’s feet as he rose. “But be patient with me. I’m frightened to be without my clothes.” He took pains to fold the blanket but he looked up when Satori tutted.

With a long slender finger, Satori pointed out in front of him. “Do it there. Where I can see you.”

Obediently Akira straightened his back, softened his expression, and went to the spot Satori had indicated. He paused to meet the lingering gaze he felt upon his body but Satori was too expectant to notice. In the stiff manner in which Akira always removed his clothes he pulled off his jacket and lay it over a railing behind him. He was smoothing his shirt front when Satori made another noise of disapproval.

“Slowly, like we’re about to get in bed,” Satori insisted. “Show off your body, Akira. Be proud.”

“I’ll try.” Akira gulped. It gave him an excuse to be slow, at least. He calculated the time it took for them to arrive here from the dock but any way he calculated it, he was still naked by the time they weighed anchor again. His fingers trembled as he unbuttoned his shirt with easy, practiced gestures, meeting Satori’s eyes seductively.

You can do this, Akira’s confidence whispered. Relax. You’ll be home soon.

Imagine he’s Hikaru, Akira’s lust offered helpfully.

His shirt slipped off his shoulders and fluttered to the floor, and his chest was bare to the world. Satori’s eyes raked up and down him hungrily. Still cold, Akira shivered and felt his nipples harden. Another wave of desire flowed through him. Shut up, he begged internally. Stop giving him more fuel for the fire! Akira let his fingers linger along his waist, trailing the top of his trousers delicately until the flicker in Satori’s eyes told him to hurry up. He unfastened the hook of his dress pants and pulled them apart, baring the top of his pelvis. He cursed inwardly as his genitals throbbed to life again.

“Keep going,” Satori urged.

Akira eased down his zipper and reluctantly let his pants pool around his ankles. He stepped out of them, and out of his shoes. Now he was in nothing except his socks and boxer briefs, which only extenuated his arousal. “Can I stop?” Akira whined. “I don’t want to take them off.”

“You don’t need your socks,” Satori quipped. “All of it must go.”

Akira swallowed a smart comment. Don’t anger the murderer again, he thought grouchily. He took his long black socks off one by one and let them fall onto the pile. Then he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear. Satori was salivating. He barely glanced at the water in front of them but Akira was more concerned about what came next than whether or not they were going to run smack into the port. God, I don’t wanna do this, Akira cried internally.

Then he did. His underwear slid down his thighs and fell from his calves to his ankles, finishing the collection of his clothing on the carpet. Satori’s breath caught in his throat. “Come here,” he demanded. His calm demeanor was slipping. One small step at a time, Akira approached him with his hands clenched into fists and his genitalia offering a convincing flagpole. He was silent purely out of fear. Anything. Satori could do anything to him now.

As Akira came almost to arm’s length he stopped.

Satori’s expression became desperate. “Closer!” He hissed. Shyly, Akira shook his head. His eyes were filled with meek hesitation but his blood was screaming for cover. Still he could not speak. “Dammit… Dammit, Akira…” Satori rasped. With the last strain of his willpower, Satori broke. He leapt from the controls and wrapped his arms around Akira, trapping him in a passionate embrace. “I love you,” Satori cried, kissing his face and wrestling with him for an intimate touch. “Akira, your body is like artwork…”

“Please don’t!” Akira cried, shrinking away. “Don’t touch me, please-”

Suddenly the world lurched around them. Akira was thrown into the railing and Satori was thrown through the yacht’s front windshield, shattering it and himself in the process. Everything flew off the shelves and broke into a million pieces all around Akira’s naked body. He covered himself in desperation but still felt shards of glass pierce his flesh. Chaos rained down on him.

The boat continued forward for only a few more feet before coming to a complete stop. A sickening silence fell as Akira realized that they’d just collided with another boat. Lurching to his feet, tearing pieces of glass from his body, Akira shoved on his underwear and socks and shoes, shaking glass from them as well. He’d gotten lucky to escape with a few cuts and bruises but shock was setting in, and he’d hit his head so he probably had a concussion. He felt very cold and very numb, but still he forced himself to his feet and leaned heavily on the railing as he peered out of the shattered windshield into the black night.

What he saw, he would never speak of again.


	26. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira learns about his father's death.

Hikaru was standing on the dark harbor with the chaos of flashing emergency lights at his back. The night was noisy, tense, and filled with shock and horror unlike anything he’d experienced before. To them, this was a disaster. And truly it was. They’d just towed in the wreckage of a yacht and a fishing boat that had collided a few hours ago in the bay. The reason for the collision was currently unknown. All they had was a body, an unconscious boy, and a gaggle of fisherman with broken arms and bruised backsides.

The call had come from the paramedics. Hikaru had been brooding at home when they said they had a boy from the wreckage ranting and raving about him. He’d been in a wild fury. So Hikaru was needed, and he’d booked it downtown as fast as humanly possible.

Akira had insisted that the body skewered on fishing poles was Satori. Hikaru had only needed to see it once to confirm its ID. Now, letting the paramedics take care of Akira, Hikaru could only think about the earlier call he’d gotten from the hospital where his father’s body was now being kept. He’d been battling a steep sense of grief and sorrow ever since he’d gotten that first call. This one put him over the edge. He was totally in shock, blank to the world as he tried to figure out how to tell his traumatized boyfriend that both his ex-lover and his father had died in the same night, but his shock was as solid as his bitterness for Akira’s actions. And yet neither compared to his relief.

“What did you see?” The medic pressed. Hikaru could hear them interrogating Akira to grasp the extent of his damage. “What happened?”

Akira burst into tears. “No!” He screamed. “No, no… no…” He’d been found almost naked in the cabin of the yacht. Why had Akira been on a yacht with Satori? Had he cheated on Hikaru? That would certainly explain why he was half naked, and why he’d been so abrasive earlier on the phone. Satori had come back into town and charmed Akira away from him. Maybe they’d been planning on going to Europe together without telling anyone; maybe they’d been planning to elope.

Turning from the water, Hikaru climbed into the ambulance. He pushed his way through the medics and embraced the thrashing Akira. “Hikaru,” Akira sobbed, clinging to him with a death-like grip. “Don’t leave - don’t leave me here!”

“I won’t ever leave you,” Hikaru whispered, spreading himself out to cover Akira’s cold flesh. “I promise.” He rubbed his back, using friction to keep him warm. Passionately, he kissed his cheek, hugging him so tightly that he felt Akira release a forced sob. Yes. Satori and the great Mejin had died. Great darkness and great light had been lost from the world this day. But Akira had lived. No matter what had happened, that was the sole important thing to Hikaru right now.

He let Akira lay back on the gurney before pulling the blanket up to his chin. His fingers smoothed Akira’s bangs from his face, revealing his pale bruised face and quivering lips.

“Are you ready, kid?” The medic asked warily. “We’re taking him to the hospital now.”

“I’m ready,” Hikaru muttered.

They shut the doors. The engine roared to life. Hikaru soothed Akira as they got an IV into his arm for fluids and gave him a sedative to keep him calm. He didn’t have a concussion by sheer luck alone; the trauma and shock had sent him into a fit because his brain had been jostled but it hadn’t been hard enough to be serious. Actually, it was a miracle that he wasn’t seriously injured. Satori had been killed because he was standing in the wrong place at the wrong time, but Akira had been protecting himself before the collision, so his center of gravity had been low enough to save him from the windshield, allowing him to roll with the powerful lurch of the yacht as it rammed the fishing vessel.

“I don’t want to sleep!” Akira hissed. “I can’t see his face again… It’s everywhere! Every time I close my eyes…”

Hikaru clung to his hands tightly. “He’s gone. Satori’s gone, Akira. Forever.”

Akira fought the sedative all the way to the hospital. They set him up in a bed and cleared Hikaru to stay with him even though he wasn’t family. When the last nurse finally left and they were alone, Hikaru climbed into the hospital bed with Akira, tangling together with him under the thin white blankets. Mercifully, Akira succumbed to sleep, his body going limp against Hikaru’s. Everything was still. Hikaru had no idea what time it was. He hadn’t even called his mother to tell her what happened, but he couldn’t call her now. His phone was in his back pocket and if he moved he feared waking Akira again.

Besides, he was tired. He just needed to close his eyes for a minute.

 

* * *

 

 

Akira woke Hikaru the next morning. Hikaru felt a delicate hand brushing his hair behind his ear, and drowsily he took a breath to fill his body with new life. The last night rushed back to him in a train wreck of memories. He snapped his eyes open. But to his endless surprise, Akira was as calm as a still pond. His eyes were back to normal. Much sadder, definitely, but sane again. His fit of mentality had passed in the night.

“Hikaru?” Akira called softly.

“Akira…” A wave of fear and grief gripped Hikaru. Tears sprang to his eyes. “You’re alright,” he wept. “God, you’re alright!” He squeezed Akira’s body against his own as tears leaked out the corners of his eyes and spilled down his cheeks. “Last night, I thought…”

Akira’s voice cracked. “I’m so sorry, Hikaru. I should’ve told you the truth. I should’ve told you about Satori.” He sank his fingers into Hikaru’s hair and hugged him close. “He came back to take me from you. I told him no. I wanted him to go back to Europe, because things between us were over, but he wasn’t right in the head. He dragged me to the bay and forced me to get on the yacht with him. He…” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “He almost… and then…”

“Stop.” Hikaru pressed his wet face into Akira’s neck. “No more. He’s gone, Akira. I don’t want to talk about him again. Never again.”

“Me either,” Akira whispered. “Hikaru?” Drawing back, Hikaru met his eyes. Akira studied him closely. “If you hadn’t come last night, I would’ve hurt myself trying to get them off of me. Thank you.” He swallowed. “I know you were angry with me. You had a right to be. But… you were there for me anyway.”

“I don’t care.”

“W-What do you mean?”

“I don’t care that you were short with me on the phone!” Hikaru felt a fresh wave of tears pour from his eyes. “I don’t care how you treat me. I don’t care if you’re cruel, or if you’re aloof, or if you’re kind – I will _always_ be there for you. I cannot stand the idea of you being alone in the world. No matter what you think of me - no matter what happens to us – I swore to protect you forever, and I will.”

“You swore?” Akira questioned. “To who?”

Slowly, Hikaru wiped away his tears. He gathered his bravery. Then, clearing his throat, he looked his lover in the eye with a stony expression. “I swore to the great Meijin,” he replied. “I swore to your father – the man who died last night, at the same time that Satori was killed.”

Shock, fear, and denial flashed across Akira’s face. His eyes grew foggy. “What?” He cried. “No… no! You’re lying!” Hikaru shook his head. “You are! _You’re lying!_ ”

“Akira! They called me last night – just before the medics called me.” Hikaru watched Akira shut down. “I’m sorry. He had another heart attack.”

“No…” Akira quaked. A wail rattled from his throat that would’ve broken the heart of a stone giant. His cry tore through the halls of the hospital and flung itself at the heavens. He shoved himself against Hikaru, struggling against him at first and then grabbing onto him so tightly that it hurt. Violent sobbing filled Hikaru’s ears. Gripping him tightly, Hikaru subdued his thrashing yet again until all that was left were tears. He held him close as they poured from him like a waterfall of grief.

Akira’s mother burst into the room. “Akira!” She cried, gliding to him. Akira pried one arm away from Hikaru to grab his mother’s hand and they all held onto a solemn moment of silence for the great Meijin.

Apparently, Akira’s mother had gotten the very first call about her husband’s death, and abruptly gone on a city-wide search for her son. It hadn’t lasted long, though. The second call about Akira being in a boat collision only fueled her desperation to find him. He was all she had left. But even she’d known to leave the two boys alone while they slept.

 

* * *

 

 

Akira was supposed to be kept at the hospital for the week, but he couldn’t stay there. Not after his father had died in a hospital. So his mother checked him out, and brought him home, and Hikaru helped her move his things back. She offered him a spot at their home while Akira was still recovering and Hikaru gladly accepted. After spending some time explaining what had happened to his own mother, Hikaru gathered some of his things and moved into Akira’s room with him.

It was colder and emptier than he imagined it would be. The whole house was stiff and formal and untouchable, and Hikaru realized then why Akira had loved being in his home so much. It was too cold here. It was even colder now that his father was gone. Akira wept often late at night when he was too upset to sleep and too tired to deal with everything that had happened, but he had Hikaru, who diligently waited for him to let all his emotions out before soothing him back to sleep. During the day they barely spoke. And at night, the silence was chilling.

Weeks passed this way. They had the funerals; Satori’s was empty, the Meijin’s packed with people from all over the world. The house slowly warmed up. Akira began to speak more and more, eventually regaining his normal demeanor. He was melancholy, as he should be, but he made love to Hikaru in the night and that made things much better. They were connected again and everything seemed a lot less scary when they were together. But Akira became very attached to Hikaru living with him.

“I don’t want to leave mother alone,” Akira said one night. “But I want to live with you, Hikaru. Alone.”

In the pitch black of the bedroom, Hikaru nodded. “We can do that.”


	27. Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira and Hikaru enjoy their first real moments of peace.

The rain came down swiftly. Outside the air was raging, clouds thundering against each other and rolling across the dark sky, flashes of lightning casting a brief and ominous glow over the night with every crackle. Droplets pelted the window loudly but the bed pressed up against it was dry and warm. Shifting his legs, Akira cradled his mug of tea as he gathered the blankets around his waist. His green eyes slid from the roar of nature to the messy calm that slept heavily despite the thunder that shook the apartment.

Hikaru was snoring softly at his knee, covered in a thick queen sized comforter. They’d bought it to match the bed. Akira preferred throw blankets with sheets himself, but Hikaru had taken a like to the big comforter, and every spare chance he got he would curl up with it and fall asleep somewhere in the apartment. The couch was modern and thick and shaped in an L around the television, so often he’d take his pillow there to sleep when Akira wasn’t around. But if Akira was home he’d always sit in bed reading, so Hikaru commonly wrapped his body around Akira’s back before dropping off to sleep. Today was one of those days.

Reaching out, Akira carded his fingers through Hikaru’s hair, drawing it away from his eyes. His peaceful face was like a painting. Akira had come to understand how short their lives really were after the death of Satori. They could die at any moment; the universe waited for no one, and granted no more time than you were willing to take, and Akira was not about to spend his time wishing for what he wanted and not doing anything about it.

Immediately after he’d recovered from that terrible night Akira had pooled his savings from being a GO pro and a little from his recent inheritance together to buy himself and Hikaru their own place. It was a small apartment set in the back of the city where Akira used to live, so he was close to his mother. He visited her very often. His father’s death had been especially hard on her; despite this, more and more these days she was traveling around, making speeches on behalf of the great Meijin and she was steadily becoming a part of the GO community in his place. Akira had to catch her in the moment in order to visit, but she always made time for him.

He smiled to himself. His mother, part of the GO world. She’d never done anything like this before and he admired her. But since Akira had bought the apartment, somehow word had gotten out. Everyone knew that he lived here with Hikaru. There were some rumors about their sexualities but for now it was all speculation, and even though they sometimes dropped by to try and get an interview, Akira felt content. He loved living with Hikaru. Everything else was just subtext.

Akira peered out into the bleak night from behind the thick velvet curtains. He touched his tea to his lips, he felt Hikaru’s chest rise and fall against his back, and he closed his eyes to listen to the sound of him snoring through the storm, and knew that he was finally home. It was an amazing feeling. Everything was finally the way it was supposed to be.

Hikaru shifted his hips and Akira felt Hikaru’s cock swell to life against his thigh. He smiled into his mug. What a pervert. He carefully set his tea aside, easing his hand beneath the comforter. A tremor of lust racked through Hikaru’s body as his hand closed around his hard-on. Still unconscious, he pushed hard against Akira’s touch, fucking into his hand as he buried his face in the blankets. Without waking him Akira steadily jacked him off. Maybe Hikaru would wake up and they could do something. Eagerly, Akira gave him a good squeeze, sending a jolt of pleasure through Hikaru that finally woke up. He released a loud lusty moan and fucked harder into Akira’s hand. Kindly, Akira obliged.

Hikaru dragged himself off the mattress. He pushed Akira over and climbed on top of him, face to cock, and shoved away the blankets until he could get at Akira’s boxer briefs. With clumsy fingers he shoved the waistband down. His hot breath washed over Akira’s bare genitals and suddenly he lowered his head, sinking Akira’s soft cock into his mouth. Akira gasped, his legs parting. The warm wet tongue rolling over his cock made him feel incredibly strong stabs of desire that strained his groin. His cock hardened so quickly that he got a shock of pleasure and he went limp savoring the shuddering feeling he got from Hikaru sucking on him.

He was suddenly clutching a cock in his face; heart pounding, Akira eased Hikaru’s cock out of his underwear. Gripping it again, with both hands this time, he began to stroke it again. He almost lost his grip when Hikaru’s moans turned into humming vibrations that trembled through Akira’s genitals like a sexual massage. Hikaru was sucking so hard and so fast that Akira’s cock bumped the back of his throat over and over, stimulating the sensitive head, and Akira was writhing. He fucked into Hikaru’s mouth ravenously.

The tingle of orgasm in his balls made him lose his mind. I’m gonna come, he thought desperately. I’m gonna come right now! Crying out, Akira came, blowing his load into Hikaru’s throat; he was unable to stop himself from bucking like a wild horse. Hikaru grabbed his hips. He held Akira down, sucking every drop from the leaking tip and running his tongue over the slit so many times that Akira was screaming. Desperate to get him back, Akira hurriedly gathered his mind back together.

In his hands, Hikaru rolled his hips, fucking down into him. Akira wanted to put it in his mouth so badly. He watched it strain and redden and couldn’t take it anymore. Grabbing Hikaru’s ass, he sank the cock between his lips. He didn’t hold back how hungry he was for revenge. Akira’s cock slipped from between Hikaru’s lips. Groaning lewdly, Hikaru pushed his knees apart and fucked into Akira’s mouth, struggling to pull it out and push it back in again when he was sucking so hard. “God,” he cried, helplessly pumping his hips. Akira fondled his balls and tightened his lips and drew the whole length of Hikaru’s cock between his lips. Trembling, slipping into climax, Hikaru struggled to stay propped up on arms.

Akira’s fingernails sank into his ass and he couldn’t hold it in anymore. Hikaru yelled with ecstasy as he shot hot white come into Akira’s throat. He collapsed but beneath him, determined, Akira supported Hikaru’s hips as he continued sucking come out of his throbbing member. He rubbed the slit with his tongue until Hikaru yanked his cock from between his lips and sprawled out on the bed alongside him, completely zapped dry.

Hikaru lay trembling and throbbing for a long time before Akira propped himself up on his elbow, reaching out to rub some saliva off of his soft cock. “No!” Hikaru yelped, grabbing his hand, but it was too late. He gasped in dizzying pleasure as Akira’s thumb brushes his tip.

“I’m still thirsty,” Akira mock-moaned seductively.

“Don’t…”

“Hikaru, come on, one more.”

“No. No way.”

“Come on, baby - please?”

Hikaru’s body seemed to respond without him; he loved it when Akira called him baby in bed. His drained cock began to stiffen again. “Akira…” He groaned helplessly. “Be gentle!”

“No way.” Akira grinned. “Not after that surprise attack.”

He leaned over and pushed Hikaru’s hands aside to slide his mouth around his cock again. Hikaru gasped. Mercilessly, Akira practically swallowed him, his mouth a hot hard cage. Hikaru’s cries grew in intensity until he, too, was screaming with pleasure. He gripped Akira’s head, pushing him down hard around his cock until it touched the back of his throat, but Akira was already doing that on his own. He squirmed beneath Akira, panting around his moans, his body overstimulated. He came much faster the second time to Akira’s endless delight. This time he was too weak to fight Akira off when he kept sucking languidly, tonguing his slit and licking the sides like a lollipop. Hikaru gave up. He became disoriented with pleasure.

Finally, mercifully, Akira let him go. He paused to catch his breath; his face was red and his lips were sore but was so happy, so satisfied, that he couldn’t help himself. He dragged his way to Hikaru’s mouth and slipped his tongue into it. Prostrate, Hikaru could barely focus, but when he tasted Akira he slid his eyes shut and let his mouth do all the work. The taste of their come mingled together. Wetly, open-mouthed, they sucked on each other’s tongues in the heat of the aftermath.

When they had finally become too tired to kiss Akira lay his head on Hikaru’s chest and drifted off to sleep. It was Hikaru’s turn to lie awake beside his slumbering lover. He gazed at the ceiling. With slow, hungry motions, his fingers rubbed Akira’s scalp beneath his thick black hair, working out tangles as they went. He felt the throb in his genitals and knew that he wouldn’t be able to fuck anything for at least a few days after this. There was only so much he could take. Akira, on the other hand, was ready to get off every day and every night. It was exhilarating.

Hikaru kissed his horny boyfriend’s nose. For them, all time passed this way. Going to games. Reading. Drifting in and out of sleep. Fucking; sometimes slowly, with intimacy, and sometimes hungrily, like they had just done, without hesitation or remorse. But it was all they needed. It was perfect.


	28. Anxious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira suffers a bout of ill health.

Akira sat erect on the thin cushion. He could feel the clock ticking its time away; even though it was such a long time until the match, he felt as if he might miss it. Something illogical inside him was filled with terror at the possibility of being late. And so here he was in the room of contemplation awaiting his next opponent. He clenched his fists on his knees and stared down at the board with absent intensity. If it had secrets to tell, and if it were able, this board would have been awakened by such power and would have voiced its deepest and most intricate knowledge to the boy before it, leaving nothing left save the hollow echo of the wood which it was made from.

The time passed in this way. The clock ticked; the air gathered above Akira’s head; and deep in his heart, he felt an unshakable sense of anxiety. His initial feelings of unease had been growing for months. He’d become distant, distracted. His heart was strained under the weight of his secret pain and although he was in perfect health, Akira often found himself depressive or wearied. He slept too much. He ate too little. Hikaru had tried to take him to the doctor but he’d refused. It wasn’t his body that was troubling him. It was something else; something deeper than his thoughts, or his mind.

Today’s game seemed to congregate all those feelings into one place. It rested like a stone on Akira’s heart, and he studied it through frustrated introspection.

He looked up sharply as the door opened. His eyes darted from the figures entering the room to the clock again. Already, it was time. Akira’s stomach lurched. He’d lost so much time. The men and women entering the room were there to preside over the match. Their crisp appearances and the familiar shuffle of paper made Akira feel trapped; there was no backing down now. There was no escape for him. He began to tremble as the door opened a second time.

“Touya,” came a warm voice.

Looking up sheepishly, Akira met his opponent’s eyes. “Shindo,” he replied evenly.

Hikaru took a careful seat before him. Not once did his eyes leave Akira. “You don’t look well,” he whispered. It went unnoticed among the others in the room.

Akira said nothing. He could barely breathe. The woman began to talk through the explanation of the match and its meaning; another competition for the top, the fifth this year, etc. Her voice was soothing but her words wrapped a bind around Akira’s weak heart. In Hikaru’s eyes he saw real concern but Akira could do nothing but stare at the board.

When it was time to begin, they chose their colors and a hush fell all around them. What is wrong with me, Akira wondered. Why am I plagued by nerves? We’ve done this millions of times.

The game went like it always did. Hikaru was decisive, Akira was cunning, and they chased each other around the board. Their moves were precise. Their movements were fluid and passionate. Soon the board was even, but Akira was struggling to continue. With every move his anxiety worsened until he could feel his own heart beating and his breath was immensely loud in his head, echoing and ragged. He played another move, ignoring it. Hikaru moved.

Akira played on and on. They were nearing the end now; things were almost even, with Hikaru leading slightly, but the board began to swim for Akira. He shut his eyes for a moment to try and focus. His heart was beating off rhythm. His body was trembling. In his mind chaos reigned, and he found himself almost falling. What, he thought helplessly. Why is this happening? It’s almost done…!

But with all of his willpower he could not open his eyes again. Suddenly something hit his head and he gasped in pain, lying against the floor that was suddenly holding his body.

“Akira!” Hikaru cried. His familiar hands turned him onto his back and pushed his bangs from his eyes, but still Akira could not open his eyes. He felt safe now. Everything is going to be alright, he thought absently, allowing himself to go limp in Hikaru’s familiar lap.

I’ve lain here so often, Akira thought quietly. I’ve taken for granted how soft and welcoming Hikaru is. How lucky I am to have met him.

 

* * *

 

 

For Akira it wasn’t a moment later that he woke up in the hospital, but when he rolled his eyes to the clock on the wall it was very late. He was seized with panic. The game! He’d missed it! “No!” He cried involuntarily. After all that hard work…!

“Akira!” Hikaru appeared at his side. “It’s alright! Everything is fine, Akira. Relax. Relax.” As he spoke he took Akira’s hand, squeezed it firmly.

“Hikaru.” Akira forced himself to focus on his face. “I collapsed.”

“Yes, at the game.”

“Why?”

Hikaru’s eyes swam with worry. “You had a prolonged panic attack.”

Akira took in a sharp breath that hurt his chest. “I’ve… I’ve never…?” His eyes clouded over as he tried to think. Yes, he’d been feeling anxious lately, picking at his clothing and pacing the apartment; but prolonged? What did that mean? “What about the match?” He asked.

“We can finish it later, don’t worry.” Hikaru saw his immense relief and became indignant. “What’s more important right now is you!” He pressed. “Why did you have a panic attack? Do you remember being stressed?”

Nodding absently, Akira looked at him again. “I’ve been feeling unwell for a while.”

“What? And you just had a panic attack now?”

“That seems to be the case.”

“Akira!” Hikaru snapped.

Mute with shock, Akira stared at him. Hikaru never yelled at him. Not since they became friends, and surely not now that he was unwell. Akira didn’t like the feeling of Hikaru being angry with him; it scared him. Hikaru withdrew guiltily and looked at his lap. A period of silence settled over them when Akira tried to figure out why Hikaru was so upset and he realized, like an idiot, that he’d been worried about him. More worried than he let on. He looked so drawn, and pale, and young sitting there clutching Akira’s hand for dear life.

“I’m sorry, Hikaru,” Akira said finally. “This is all my fault. I should’ve gone to the doctor when you told me to. The last thing I wanted was to make you fear for my health.”

“When I saw you fall over, I was so scared,” Hikaru whispered. “After your father… I didn’t want to lose you, too.”

Akira’s heart lurched. “Hikaru!” He cried. For a minute he struggled to sit up until Hikaru sprang to help him, stumbling into his arms when Akira reached for him. “I’m so sorry,” Akira whispered, embracing him tightly. “I’d never leave you. Not like that. Please forgive me.”

The rigid demeanor Hikaru had adopted melted away. He buried his face in Akira’s hair. “I love you,” he strained. “Don’t do this. Don’t neglect your health – not again.”

“Never,” Akira said, and he meant it. In his mind he swore to himself that he’d never put off another doctor’s visit, Not if it hurts him like this, he thought steadily.

He lay back and Hikaru lay with him. They kissed with a private intimacy that would have certainly astounded any possible onlookers. Coincidentally, although they were alone, a nurse came at that moment who happened to witness this for a brief moment. It was enough. She came warily to the foot of the bed with a guarded look on her face. “Akira,” she said, and the boys separated hastily. “Feeling better, I see?”

“Yes. Only because I’m keeping good company.” Akira managed to not look as panicked as he felt about someone catching them together.

The nurse flipped her chart smugly. “Your vitals have returned to normal, but the doctor would like to speak with you about your condition. He should be by shortly.” She gave them both a coy look. “Feel better, Mr. Touya. My name is Himawari, and I’ll be back later to check on you again.” With that, she was gone. The room fell into an anxious hush.

“Shit,” Hikaru whispered.

Akira nodded in agreement. The first person to catch them being intimate had been totally random. He rubbed his face. “I can’t believe this happened.” Looking down at the IV in his arm gave him the creeps. His father had been on an IV, in a nice bed, in a good hospital, totally safe and sound when he’d died. Akira was beginning to feel anxious again. “I don’t want to be here again; I want to go home.”

Putting an arm around his shoulders, Hikaru hugge+d him close. “Soon. I promise. We’ll ask the doctor if I can take you home.”

Akira nodded but his mind was elsewhere. Why had the match caused him to peak? His anxiety had been building for months. Maybe there was something going on that he didn’t know about. It was probably quite important but he didn’t want to think about it right now. He would rather enjoy a few more minutes in Hikaru’s presence before the doctor arrived.

Leaning into Hikaru, Akira closed his eyes. He thought only about his warmth; his love, his soul. He tried to become one with him. Hikaru, seeming to know, wrapped his arms around him and created for Akira a safe haven made of his body. They lay placidly together in perfect connection. And soon, without meaning to, Akira drifted off to sleep once more.


	29. Finality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira and Hikaru finish their final match as competitors.

Hikaru faced Akira two weeks later, watching him carefully over the GO board. His anxiety still hadn’t dispelled. Although he was much better now, Akira continued to struggle against an unknown force that seemed to wish him ill. They’d done a few things to get his health back on track. He walked outside a lot more, despite the cold, and Hikaru pushed back all of his other games in order to keep an eye on him.

They’d found a lot of time to talk. Staying up late and sleeping in helped them wander to thoughts of the future. Now, watching Akira contemplate his next move, Hikaru felt a rush of adrenaline. They had finally reached a decision on what to do about their love life and he was thrilled to death about it; truth be told, he was sick of doing things in secret. It had been fun and even hot at first but now it was just exhausting. He wanted to show the world how much he loved Akira.

The stone clacked against the board as Akira made his move. Hikaru studied the stone formations again, as he’d been doing for the past three hours, and reached into his jar. Since Hikaru had won easily upon the completion of their first match they’d decided to make this game a set of matches instead of just one; it give Akira the chance to recover after his sudden illness. Their last match had been dead even so this third one was the end – the deciding match.

Akira was determined to fight back and Hikaru was electrified to see him play like a warrior again. He was always ferocious, but when he was losing, Akira became lit with the glow of a passionate fire, casting huge shadows on the walls around him. His eyes burned. His moves could cut steel. Shivering in awe, Hikaru battled him with just as much ferocity, parrying his moves and starting fights where he knew that they were going to have an amazing competition. The board looked like a jigsaw puzzle of clashing foes.

Behind Hikaru, Sai was pale and stiff with shock. This was Hikaru’s best game - maybe the best one ever - and just watching made Sai feel the waves of intensity rolling off both boys like the crashing tide. He could feel something coming. Energy was building. When an unstoppable force met an immovable object, there was bound to be a collision of massive proportion. Sai’s anticipation grew with every move.

The force grew further still. Hikaru was merciless, and Akira bristled. Their battles moved from the top corner all the way across the board in different concise wins and losses. Suddenly in the center, Akira played something particularly aggressive and Hikaru faltered. He knew where to play but he had no idea how Akira’s reaction was going to play out. Anxiously he smacked down his next move and what Akira did next shocked the onlookers.

In the audience, the men and women presiding over the match were just as rattled by the match as Sai was. They didn’t quite grasp how powerful these two boys were but what they did understand was how this match, here and now, was going to make or break both of their careers. Akira’s move made every single one of them hold their breath.

Hikaru was frozen; his impossibly infinite imagination wove galaxies and universes of GO moves for him to feel out and understand but he could not believe his own mind when it revealed to him the only possible way to win this match. His body thundered. Across the board, Akira saw nothing except his imminent victory. To him there wasn’t anything else to be done. He’d entirely cut off Hikaru’s routes of escape, won the majority of the battles, and chased Shindou into a corner. Triumph flowed off him in waves. But Hikaru looked into his eyes and what Akira saw there sent an icicle of panic through his heart. His confidence vanished in a puff of smoke.

Before Akira could fully understand what he’d done wrong Hikaru had already grabbed a stone and, with shaking fingers, slammed it down on the board. Despite their previously professional demeanors everyone else in the room let out a roar of disbelief that signaled the final stroke of the match.

This move from Hikaru had done more than win the game. He had severed Akira’s connection to every stone on the board, rendering them all completely dead. His entire army was wiped out; simultaneously, Hikaru’s stone had connected both sides of his army on the board in an overwhelming and astonishing multitude. His army was now massive, Akira’s being utterly destroyed, and almost every single space on the board was filled to the brim. There was nothing left to do except add to the dead army or the victorious army. As Akira had thought his last move to be the winning blow, Hikaru had turned the tables on him in a guillotine of precision.

The entire match Hikaru had subconsciously done this on purpose. He’d predicted the entire war down to Akira’s last move; that had been the only outlier, and it had turned the entire board in his favor. Only at his last move, after struggling against Akira’s might, had Hikaru fully realized the game changer that he was capable of.

He’d done it. Hikaru Shindou had played the divine move.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Akira went cold as the room erupted around him in cries of shock and awe. He’d lost. Piteously, Akira Touya had lost, effectively ending their five year competition with Hikaru as the triumphant victor. And there was nothing on this board that could tell Akira what had happened. He just couldn’t explain how he hadn’t seen Hikaru’s finishing move. It had come seemingly out of nowhere, but that wasn’t possible. The entire game had been a wild set of strategies by both boys. How had it ended up this way? More importantly, why hadn’t he seen it from the start?

Maybe it was because Akira had been too focused on his own future for the game to notice what was happening. Maybe Hikaru had pulled a fast one at the last minute. Or maybe as a player, Hikaru just had far more potential than Akira would ever have to manipulate and predict… and weave a win from the very beginning.

Akira’s gaze of empty disbelief drank in Hikaru in all his towering glory. He was a beacon of light. He was glowing, and conflicted, and his eyes clashed with equal parts terror and steely triumph. This boy, Akira thought suddenly. _My_ boy will be a legend in history.

A tsunami of crippling love drowned every spec of Akira’s malice, protest and denial. He doubled over. To cover his momentary weakness, he grabbed his knees and almost touched his forehead to the board, trembling like a leaf. “I resign,” he said.

 

* * *

 

 

Hikaru’s chest deflated as Akira bowed to him in resignation. It was over. He’d won.

All around him cameras flashed and the room became deafening with questions and cries of protest but it seemed to be happening behind a glass wall. And on their side of the wall, Hikaru felt Akira’s emotions as if they were connected, unable to comprehend how every drop of his negativity vanished, as if swamped by something too powerful to withstand.

He was so busy focusing on Akira that when his heart was stabbed with a flash of light it knocked the breath from his lungs. Gasping, Hikaru whirled to see Sai over him weeping with joy. There was a blinding light at his back and his tears dropped onto Hikaru’s face like liquid diamonds.

“You did it,” Sai whispered. “Hikaru, you played the divine move!”

“I…” Hikaru stammered. He’d known that this moment was coming for a long time but now that it was here, he wasn’t ready. His vision blurred with tears and he angrily scrubbed them off his face. He remembered that he was in the presence of others and began screaming in his thoughts. _Sai!_ He cried. _You can’t go! Not yet!_

“It was already decided. The moment you saw the final move you opened the afterlife for me, Hikaru. By playing the divine move, you have set me free.”

Desperation filled Hikaru’s chest. _Please, wait! I take it back!_

A moment hung between them. Gentle, smiling, Sai peered down at him through his tears. He reached out his pale slender hand and for the first time Hikaru felt the brush of his warm fingertips on his cheek.

“Don’t cry for me, Hikaru,” Sai said softly. “You don’t need me anymore. You haven’t needed me for a long, long time.” He spread his arms until his Kimono took on the resemblance of butterfly wings in flight; the light behind him grew in intensity. “There is no more room in your soul for three. Hikaru… you were my best and greatest friend. Goodbye.”

 _No, don’t-_ Hikaru yelped as the blinding light swallowed Sai whole before snapping from reality completely. Bits of it left spots in his eyes. His heart was pounding, his ears rang, but in his head there was a gaping empty space where the soul of his best friend had once resided, and Hikaru wept. Only the hushed room around him, filled with admirers and competitors alike flooded from the halls, greeted his sorrow. Akira appeared beside him like an apparition. He didn’t need to ask what was wrong. Hikaru was beyond words.

Slowly, the cameras ceased to flash. The acute curiosity and pity from the audience melted into solemnity. The room emptied. With a shuffle of footsteps and the cooperation of GO lovers of every shape and size, Hikaru and Akira were left alone in The Room of Contemplation, the only presence left besides their own being the GO board at their backs.


	30. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happiness finds the boys.

Winter had come and gone. Spring blossomed. After a very long plane ride and quite a few long nights in a hotel in the center of Amsterdam, Akira and Hikaru hosted a public event for GO. The European fans from all over gathered to play their part in the festival and for a week it dominated the streets and newspapers. There were venders, tents filled with GO boards, entertainment, and wall-to-wall GO players for miles.

At the center of it all was Hikaru. It had been entirely his idea to begin this tradition halfway across the world. The event was called the Fugiwara-no-Sai Festival, and it was granted special permission by the heads of the GO community to be the biggest celebration of the history of GO in existence. All the best players were remembered and mock games were held, beginners and pros alike reenacting the greatest games in history while people in costumes recited the history of the figure they were dressed up as. The friendly, active atmosphere attracted people of every kind, serving to even draw in new European beginners and hook them into the game.

Among the most important games in history now was the final match between Hikaru Shindou and Akira Touya. Their closely documented war and its conclusion became the most popular news in the GO community. Hikaru was a celebrated legend. After becoming the new great Meijin, he’d contented himself to organizing and hosting events like the Fujiwara-no-Sai Festival, rarely consenting to an official GO game. He’d surpassed Touya; his wildest dreams had already come true.

On the very last day of the first Fujiwara-no-Sai Festival held in Amsterdam, Hikaru Shindou and Akira Touya shocked the world by throwing a public wedding. Amsterdam was the capital of the Netherlands which had been the very first country to legalize gay marriage. Both wore white suits and stood beneath the blooming cherry blossom trees, holding hands and embracing passionately at the close of the ceremony. It was all extremely emotional and historical. No one had predicted that Akira would ever recover from losing to Shindou – and yet there they stood, declaring their love for each other without stammer or fault. Akira would always refer to that day as the best day of his life and for years to come, this festival was not only the biggest GO event on earth, it was a symbol of the future to come and the equality that it promised. In Japan their marriage certificate was just a piece of paper. But to them it meant the world.

Akira retired from professional GO. Once he’d lost publically to Hikaru for the last time all of his anxiety had vanished. He was once again healthy, powerful, and most importantly he was happy. He spent all of his time now teaching GO classes at the university. Widely worshipped in the GO community and yet hated for his marriage to Shindou, Akira braved the whip lash between admirers and animosity with his usual air of confidence and grace. None of them even had a chance. To this day, he still gets love letters from his students.

Hikaru claimed three more titles in his spare time between events. He became the head of the GO community, inspiring millions with his beginner-to-title-holder story. They weren’t exactly making t-shirts in his honor but a lot of kids dyed their bangs different colors nowadays. At the age of twenty, Hikaru and Akira applied for adoption and got rejected four times before the government grudgingly allowed them to have children. They took in two fiery boys, brothers from the orphanage, and swore to raise them as Hikaru had been raised; to make choices about their lives and not force a lifestyle on them.

The oldest preferred girls and skateboarding, but the youngest began to beat Akira at GO when he was just twelve years old...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!!
> 
> Sorry for the short ending, but this isn't getting a lot of attention and I have to study Russian while I'm in Russia. Thanks for reading! If you made it here with me, from the very beginning, bless you. 
> 
> If you ever want someone to fangirl with, or to criticize, you know where to find me.


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